


Ebony and Ivory

by GrumpySpaceKitten



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - World War II, Frank Sinatra AU, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-15
Updated: 2020-03-26
Packaged: 2021-01-31 05:36:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,233
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21441070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrumpySpaceKitten/pseuds/GrumpySpaceKitten
Summary: Just a waiter at a local cabaret, Eren watches every performance by Levi Ackermann, enthralled. Meeting the acclaimed singer doesn't go as planned.
Relationships: Levi/Eren Yeager
Comments: 21
Kudos: 59





	1. Strangers in the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for coming despite my terrible summary! This is set in the World War II era and as such I tried to keep things historically accurate, even if things they say might be considered bad now. So please keep in mind not every view expressed is one I agree with, I'm just trying to tell the story. All that aside, I hope to update often so stick around if you enjoyed this first chapter!

**1944**

Yellow lights dim and throw the cabaret into silence as voices hush and eyes turn to the stage. Ropes click and clatter in their pulleys as heavy velvet curtains are pulled aside; a band sits in subdued lighting while a man stands in the centre, a spotlight illuminating him and making him stand out against his accompaniment. He isn’t a particularly remarkable-looking man - stylish in his pinstriped suit that hugs his almost petite frame; pomade slicks back the top of his hair, long in stark contrast to his undercut. He is so small he has to lower the microphone a few inches to accommodate his height, but grey eyes hold the audience captive as they peer into the shadows. But more than anything, as the band begins to play a light melody, it is the soft baritone he begins to croon in that makes the audience swoon.

_ “ Whenever it’s early twilight, _

_ “I watch ‘til a star breaks through. _

_ “Funny, it’s not a star I see, _

_ “It’s always you. _

_ “Whenever I roam through roses, _

_ “And lately I often do, _

_ “Funny, it’s not a rose I touch, _

_ “It’s always you.” _

He snaps his fingers in time to the cheery beat, tilting his head as he leans into the microphone. Ladies lean across their tables as if to get him to notice them, but he doesn’t; the gentlemen accompanying them try to remind the woman that this is their night on the town and the singer shouldn’t be their sole focus. Their gentlemen are given no mind.

He enchants the room, and barely a breath is taken so long as he is on stage. Not a single eye leaves him as he struts across the stage, not even the gaze of a certain waiter in the back.

Eren can’t help it; this man performs here so often and every night it seems he gets more mesmerizing than the last. Besides, it isn’t like anyone has food on their minds anyway, they’re all too enthralled by the crescendoing music. So Eren stays there, spellbound until the performance ends, the curtains close as the lights rise, and he is snapped at by his manager to get back to work.

He would get yelled at every night, so long as he gets to watch each performance put on by the famed singer, Levi Ackermann.

* * *

“See you tomorrow!” calls Eren to his coworkers over his shoulder. A few call a similar goodbye, but it is late and everyone is tired; no one is much in the mood for pleasantries.

Unchaining his bicycle, Eren swings his leg over and settles himself on the seat. He isn’t riding home, not tonight. No, tonight he has a wonderful evening planned: a night of wine, of firelight, and dances by the radio with his ever amazing boyfriend.

And in the morning, when they parted ways, they would act like they were only friends. To everyone around them, that’s all they’d ever be. Some part of him wished the society he lived in wasn’t like this, that he could show affection to whomever he wanted even if they were a man; but no matter what other people think, they are together and Eren is content with that.

His heart feels giddy the whole way there. He chains his bike up outside the apartment building and takes the stairs by twos. As soon as he enters the apartment, it’s clear by the way his boyfriend stands with hands on hips that he is none-too-pleased with Eren. “Late enough? I thought you said you got off work at ten today.”

“I’m sorry, Jean.” Eren’s tone is very obviously pleading for forgiveness. “The audience wanted an encore so the show tonight ran long.”

Jean tries to keep his scowl up but very much fails to do so - the cute puppy dog eyes Eren is giving him is just too much, he can’t stay mad. He sighs and opens his arms; Eren immediately embraces him. “Well, dinner went cold a while ago, but they give you a free meal when you work overtime, don’t they?”

Eren nods after they share a tender kiss. “Yeah, I got some of the leftover fish. I always wonder why people pay so much to get in, but it’s definitely worth it. Those cooks know what they’re doing.”

They migrate to the sofa after Jean pours two glasses of deep red wine. “Who was performing tonight?” he asks as they nurse their drinks.

“Levi Ackermann.” The awe is so clear both in Eren’s voice and expression. 

“No wonder you were late. I’ve heard all his shows run longer than expected; the audience just never wants him to go.”

“He’s so incredible, Jean. I don’t think I’ve ever heard another voice like his; and the songs he sings, they’re just so gorgeous, with so much passion behind the lyrics. He steps on stage and I swear the room goes so silent you could hear the drop of a pin. Nobody talks while he’s on stage, and as soon as he’s off he’s the only thing everyone wants to talk about.”

“Just like you right now?” chuckles Jean. He kisses Eren when the brunet man pouts. “I gotta say, his wife must be one lucky lady. He is married, isn’t he?”

Eren nods as he sets his glass aside and leans fully against Jean’s chest. “Yeah, she sometimes greets him backstage after his shows. She’s kinda cute, I guess, in a really bookish sort of way. The kind of woman you’d expect to see running a library.”

“Good,” Jean hums.

Eren raises a brow. “Good? What do you mean?”

“Good thing he’s married, I don’t have to worry about him whisking you away with his apparently magical voice.”

“He’s talented, but I’ve got you.” Eren smiles and they share another soft kiss.

* * *

Eren isn’t happy with the decision. Not one damn bit. He hates it. Wishes he could do something to change it.

But he can’t. Because this is Jean’s choice. Did he expect Eren to take it happily when he said he wanted to join the war? It pisses Eren off beyond belief. Pisses him off so much he found it hard to sleep the past fortnight.

Still, Jean sounded so adamant about it. Just like many others, the bombing of Pearl Harbor was a personal offence, an unforgivable offence. Jean may have escaped the draft, but that just meant he had to take it upon himself to join the fight.

They stand in the airport; Eren scans the room as Jean checks his bag. There’s plenty of uniformed men saying tearful goodbyes to loved ones. They’re reluctant, that’s how it should be; no one should want to go to war. Jean, though, Jean has a fire inside him that won’t be quenched so long as he watches from the sidelines. It isn’t completely foreign, he had lost a good friend in the bombing after all; not that knowing this makes any of this easier for Eren to swallow.

“Come on,” Jean says after he gets everything settled. “I gotta piss.”

It is a less than amorous code phrase, but the fact is they’ve always had a sort of privacy in restrooms - so that’s their excuse when they need a minute to themselves.

As expected, when they step into the men’s room it is empty except for them. Jean takes his hands and gives him a comforting smile. “I’ll be back before you know it. Our life together will go back to how it was. Everything will be on track again after I give Hitler a nice square fist to the jaw.” 

Jean is grinning, meanwhile, Eren finds it hard to even look him in the eye. “Yeah,  _if_ you come back.”

Jean’s brows raise in surprise then he snorts. “Jeez, Eren, that’s definitely what someone wants to hear before they go off to risk their life for their country.”

“But you are, Jean! You are risking your life!  _ Risking!  _ Gambling with it! And when you don’t come back, when they give a flag to your mother, who is going to think of telling me?! Nobody! Nobody is going to suspect you’ve got some secret lover, sitting awake every night, unable to sleep because of what might happen to you!” It’s selfish, so goddamn selfish, but is it really so wrong to want to keep the person dearest to your heart?

“This is bigger than us, Eren! You’ve seen the newsreels! They’re locking people up just for being Jewish, or Gypsies, or whatever! I can’t just sit by while that happens! And as a man, you shouldn’t be able to either!”

“That isn’t-”

“And the war they bring everywhere they go! Do you know how often Marco says they hear air raid sirens in London?! Do you know how scared he is? How scared I am for him?!”

“I know you want to protect your brother but, Jean! Come on!”

“And now the Japanese are in on it, too!”

“It’s awful what they’re doing!  _ But I don’t want you to die!  _ I love you, Jean! I want our life together, I want us happy together! I don’t want to lose you! Can’t you stop being fucking selfish for five minutes?!” Eren’s blood is boiling, eyes swimming with tears. He doesn’t know if he’s upset or not, doesn’t even know if he should be crying or not. He does know that he’s angry: angry his feelings hadn’t been considered at all in this, angry he was just being tossed aside, angry Jean was leaving him, angry that they couldn’t kiss their goodbyes at the gate as any other couple could. He was just so fucking furious about it all, and Jean is giving him the perfect outlet.

Jean, on the other hand, seems so goddamn composed - passionate and assured in his choice, but composed. It pisses Eren off even more. “I’m going, and it’s too late to do a damn thing about it. And you know what? If I was in their position, I’d be praying someone was willing to give up their happiness to save me too.”

When he turns on his heel and walks out without so much as a glance, Eren can only stare. Damn it. Eren rubs his eyes with the sleeve of his jacket. This isn’t how he imagined it going; it was supposed to be a sweet, tender goodbye between star-crossed lovers. But his feelings and temper got the best of him and he fucked it all up. He hangs his head in shame, almost starts to go after Jean.

Then a hand grabs his shoulder. And Eren’s blood runs cold.

No. 

They had been alone in here, hadn’t they?

But Eren was facing the door, and no one had come in during their shouting match.

Which meant this person was-

_ No. _

“I’ve heard every girl likes a sailor. Guess soldiers are saved for the boys.”

“It isn’t like that-” Eren starts as he whips around. His voice dies when he looks down into piercing grey eyes. “M-Mr. Ackermann!”

“What’s your name, kid?” he asks, eyes sweeping over him slowly.

“E-Eren, Sir.”

Mr. Ackermann grabs a towel to wipe his damp hands, studying the boy in front of him. “You… You work at the local cabaret here, don’t you?” 

“Uh, y-yes, sir, I do. It’s really not- this isn’t what you may think- nothing like that-”

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Otherwise, stop spluttering like a moron.” Mr. Ackermann fetches his fedora off the row of sinks, placing it on his head before he gazes at Eren beneath the brim. “And I’m pretty sure this is exactly what I think it is.”

This isn’t how Eren wanted to meet him. They could have talked at the cabaret, they could have laughed over drinks after they finished working. But instead, Eren stands here, caught in the act, floundering for words as his pissed off boyfriend boards a plane for a bloody fucking war. Nothing is going right.

Mr. Ackermann studies him for a moment longer - he is so much shorter than Eren expected; but why is he thinking of that now when he might be getting arrested soon? Shock. Shock must be muddling his head - and then his lips quirk up into a smirk that can’t mean anything good. “I’ll cut a deal with you, kid.” To that, Eren nods quickly. “You do what I ask, and I won’t even think of snitching to the authorities.”

Eren quickly nods again. “Of course, sir, anything. I’ll do absolutely anything. Just name it.”

Mr. Ackermann pats Eren’s shoulder, taking two steps toward the door. He smiles, vampiric and cold, back at Eren as he twists the knob.

“I’ve been wanting a pet.”


	2. Anything Goes

Eren has felt on edge for days. He knows Mr. Ackermann has been out of town doing performances, but for two weeks his mind has been occupied with nothing but those parting words.

_ “I’ve been wanting a pet.” _

What is Eren supposed to take that to mean? Will he have to do chores for the singer? But that’s not really what a pet does… Will he be expected to crawl around on all fours and only bark? Eren shudders. Chores sound better than that. But… But what if he meant something else when he said pet? What if he wanted Eren in leather and bondage and- Eren can’t even finish the thought as a violent shiver runs down the full length of his spine. 

“Eren!” Connie, a coworker of his calls. “You good over there? You look like you just saw the devil or something.”

Eren glances down into the silver platter he’s washing. He definitely looks pale, and the contrasting dark bags under his eyes definitely don’t help him look like he has any more colour. He’s barely slept a wink. His mind is constantly filled with dread for the future and regret for the past. And he just has to accept whatever it is; if he says no, Mr. Ackermann will report him to the police. Eren wants to go to college when he gets the money for it, he wants to just settle down with someone he loves and practice architecture in peace. That’s all he wants. Getting turned into the police will do a little more than hinder that goal.

Well… He thinks. The fact is, Eren doesn’t know what will happen to him should his sexuality come out. He’s heard rumours of all colours, so many that he doesn’t know what the truth is. But he knows it won’t be anything good. He really has no choice but to do whatever is asked of him.

Damn it, he hopes Mr. Ackermann gets back soon, at least so he can figure out what’s in store.

* * *

“Eren, you’re more than welcome to stay, but don’t you think running from your problems is a little ineffective?”

Eren sighs and stares at his toothbrush as he rinses it. Armin is right, he always is. Eren can’t sleep on his sofa forever; eventually, he’ll have to go home and accept it all. “I’m just having trouble,” he says, looking at his blond friend. “I go home and I see where Jean and I used to make breakfast together, and listen to records, and sit out on the fire escape to watch the stars, and I feel so guilty. I’m so selfish - I didn’t want him to go at all and now all I want is him to come home.”

“It isn’t easy to let go of what you love.” Armin agrees as he steps out of the bathroom. He hands Eren a pillow and blanket. “But you have to be willing to sacrifice to change the world, and Jean was.”

“I know, I’m an asshole,” he mutters, tone hard.

“That’s not…”

“Sorry, I’m just on edge.” Eren sighs as he spreads blankets across the couch. A bit of an understatement really. “I’ll get back to my usual self as soon as I can.”

* * *

Eren’s relief comes three days later when Mr. Ackermann steps onto the stage in front of the band. He wasn’t even aware Levi would be performing that night. 

Mr. Ackermann still has full mastery over his captivating spell, and the audience still sits completely silent as he enchants them with every rich note. Everyone watches with bated breath, servers and diners alike; not a single soul can escape his hypnotism as he sways on the stage, his long legs so wonderfully accentuated in that suit that fits him so well.

_ “ I want you so… More than you'll ever know _

_ More than you dream I do, I dream of you.” _

The lyrics are as soulfully sung as ever, but now Eren finds himself marveling at them. Mr. Ackermann had come across as cold and nearly cruel in the washroom that day, yet his lyrics are so sweet and earnest. It’s almost as if he is an entirely different person on stage, one with the tender heart of a star-crossed lover looking for their better half, while offstage he is someone else entirely, a person calloused by the rough treatment of the world. He seems to Eren a being as split as Jekyll and Hyde; someone who can’t decide between caring deeply or saying  _ Fuck it. _

Knowing this leaves Eren to wonder which side will be deciding on his fate. While Jekyll may be the most empathetic and compassionate person in the country, it’s only reasonable to conclude that Hyde will be a being of complete contempt and malice.

And all it serves to do is make Eren’s anxiety even worse.

The show runs long - Mr. Ackermann’s always do - so it’s late when their patrons leave. The mess of the hall at least gives Eren something to focus on. He lets his mind stay solely on scrubbing sauce off tables before it stains the lacquer, on sweeping up every little crumb before mopping the floor so much it’s just shy of sparkling. By the time he gets to the windows, he’s chatting away happily with his coworkers. So long as he keeps moving, he won’t have time to worry.

Eren keeps at it until called out by his manages, who says he can finish deep cleaning later; nobody’s working overtime. As he gets his coat and shoes on, Eren thinks that maybe all the cleaner he’s been around might have wiped his thoughts as well - he isn’t nearly as anxious anymore.

Drying hands damp from washing dishes on his jeans, he steps out the back door, Eren blinks when he sees Levi leaning against the opposite wall. And suddenly all that nervous tension is flooding back over Eren as he gently knocks his knuckles together in agitation. “O-oh, good evening, sir! I thought you would have headed home by now. And a great performance, by the way, it was absolutely-”

Mr. Ackermann holds up a hand to cut him off, the other going to massage his temple. “Kid, you need to knock it a fucking notch down; I am so hungover right now. You’re up there at a ten, bring it down to a three.”

Eren blinks. The difference between Levi’s apparent personalities is like getting out of a warm bath and jumping into arctic waters - jarring and disorienting and more than a little unpleasant. “Uh, y-yes, sir. What would you like-”

“Come on,” Mr. Ackermann cuts in and leads the boy down the street, hands shoved in his pockets.

Eren glances around. Shouldn’t they be worried about being seen together? And he’s still in his work clothes, wouldn’t it be better for him to change before he does whatever Levi has in store for him? Eren almost voices these thoughts but then he sees Mr. Ackermann’s deep scowl and decides to just go along with it, keeping quiet as they head down the empty street. Eren’s confusion only gets worse when they end up at a high-class apartment building. Does this mean that sex is expected of him, or is the singer just here to fetch something he needs before they head to their next destination?

The doorman calls a “Hello,” to Mr. Ackermann, who is polite enough to give a half-smile and wave in response. He leads Eren down scarlet painted halls to the elevator and presses the button for the top floor before he leans back against the wall, letting his head hang tiredly. “Look like you belong here, kid. Stop fidgeting so much.”

Immediately Eren drops his hands, unaware he had been digging at his nail beds. “Y-yes, sir. ...Sir, if I may ask, what are we doing here?”

Levi doesn’t say a word as the elevator comes to a stop and he steps out. That annoys Eren but also makes his nervous heart flutter even more. Mr. Ackermann grabs a key from his trousers and unlocks the door to a penthouse suite Eren could never hope to afford - all vaulting ceilings, wood panels with bronze inlays, and dimmed lighting that gives the space the feel of a cigar lounge - though he can see there are other lights not turned on now to give the space a more homey feel. He’s not even taken off his jacket, at Mr. Ackermann’s insistence, before a voice rings out, “Oh, darling, you’re back!”

The woman that comes in is everything that Eren had heard about her: her dark hair is tied back into a bun that might have once been sleek and clean but is now littered with loose strands and flyaways; her plain grey dress is dirtied with stains, some might be egg, others soil, and a few have a reddish-brown tinge to them that makes Eren a little concerned. She examines him through rimless glasses perched on her nose before she gasps, clapping her hands together once. 

“Oh! And you’ve brought a boy toy along with you this time, too! It’s been so long since you brought a lover home! And this one is quite striking, if I do say so myself!” She pokes and prods at every inch of him as she gushes. Levi watches with a bored expression. Obviously he is used to this sort of behavior. She examines the roots of Eren’s hair, brushing her fingers over his cheekbones before she spreads his eyelids with thumb and forefinger. Then she grabs his hand, looking at his fingernails, the beds torn up from his anxious picking. She even pulls back his lips to examine his teeth and gums. Eren is so shocked by all this he can’t even protest her behaviour. “Just a few little questions then you two can be on your merry way to carnal bliss! Where did you two meet? Are you the one he’s been telling me about? I say telling me about as if he talks at length about you, but really he just mentioned it in passing and I don’t pry into his sex life. That’s not true at all, I pry loads!” she giggles. “Which brings me to my next question: how big is it? You see, I’m trying to see if there’s some sort of connection with the type of physical appearance Levi likes and penis size. But, as I mentioned, he hasn’t brought anyone home in a while so my research is going a little dry right now-”

“Alright, leave the kid alone.” Mr. Ackermann finally intervenes, his expression apathetic as he puts on a kettle for tea. “Eren, my wife, Hanji.”

“Oh, I still laugh when you use that term.” she grins.

Eren, on the other hand, is so utterly lost at their dynamic that he’s still standing there with his jacket half on. “W-wait, I’m confused… H-he brings men home, and you-you  _ know _ about it?”

When Mr. Ackermann offers no answers as he strains tea leaves, Hanji takes the initiative with a toothy grin. “Oh, yes, I know. And I’m quite curious about it all. I mean, really, my dear, does Levi even  _ seem _ like the type to like women?” she laughs so lightly about it like it’s commonplace for men to be interested in men. “He had to have an alibi, of course; someone with such a widely known reputation can’t hide their sexual tastes long when they’re single. Media tends to pry into your romantic life to find some sort of lover to report on. So, of course, he needed a wife to hide behind!” Levi grumbles at her wording. “And me - well, my parents were pushing me to leave behind my scientific pursuits and marry like any respectable woman my age.” She shakes her head with a sigh at such a ludicrous idea. “So, you see, our marriage was one of convenience: Levi needed to cover his lack of interest in women, and I don’t like being nagged at by a mother hen.”

Eren supposes it makes some sort of sense - maybe, not really - but it’s still so bizarre how casual they both are. He stares as Hanji begs Levi for the opportunity to watch them get intimate, assuring her interests are purely scientific and objective, and Mr. Ackermann shuts her down with a withering scowl.

“Take the coat off and come sit down already, moron; your tea will go cold.”

Eren shakes himself and nods quickly. He finally slips his other arm out of the sleeve and Hanji dutifully takes his jacket to hang up. Like any good housewife when her husband has company. That only makes Eren more perplexed.

He sips at his tea, trying to understand so hard he feels the dull pain of a headache starting behind his eyes. “So… You two… You-”

Hanji picks up on his question quickly and smiles as she pulls double chocolate cookies from the oven. “We live together, we eat together, we while away time together. All purely platonic, I can assure you. We’re simply roommates bound together by law. We have our own little living spaces for our own things, our own bathrooms, our own beds - though I suppose there is the occasion when we fall asleep on the sofa together while listening to radio programs - all snuggled up like birds of a feather! It’s not so bad really; my dearest Levi here is such an easygoing man - keeps to himself mostly and doesn’t see much point in arguing - don’t confuse that for being passive though, he’s got a sharp tongue when he uses it! But, as I said, simply imagine us as roommates; roommates with tax benefits!”

“I… guess that makes sense. But-”

Levi cuts him off before he can ask any more questions, probably annoyed at having his personal life delved into so much. “Hanji, you’re filthy.” he scowls at her over his cup.

She glances down at her dirtied front and laughs. “I guess I am; I was working. I heard a delightful rumour that worms are such simply designed creatures that you can cut them in half and they’ll keep on going! Alas, a flock of pigeons interrupted my sample gathering so I’ll have to wait for another day before I find out for myself.”

Mr. Ackermann snorts a little as he stands to put his empty teacup in the sink. “I’m going to shower - I hate all this shit in my hair,” he announces, a hand unconsciously going through his gelled back hair. He gives Eren a side glance as he heads to his room. “Eat, have a look around, enjoy a nice long shit, whatever; just don’t go touching everything, especially if it belongs to Shit Glasses.”

Hanji doesn’t seem upset at the insult; in fact, she beams in the way one does when they go along with a joke. “Ever so eloquent, my dearest!”

Mr. Ackermann grunts in reply before he closes the door to what Eren assumes is his bedroom.

“Please, do make yourself at home,” Hanji says warmly as she wipes off the table, though Eren didn’t think it had been dirty.

He nods and slowly toes off his shoes by the door before he steps further into the apartment. The sitting room is spacious, lined with Victorian-style sofas across from floor to ceiling windows. The hall branches off to another room - dark except for the light spilling in from a lamp in the wall - where Eren can catch a glimpse of a polished grand piano, bookcases behind it. One glance out the window has him absolutely captivated - they’re so high up, they could be level with the moon, the city sprawled beneath them as dotted lights the spread off in each direction. He peers out into the darkness; he’ll have to come see this again when it’s light. “Um, Mrs. Ackermann?” he asks hesitantly after a moment.

“Just Hanji, please,” the woman replies lightly and Eren nods.

“Hanji… What am I doing here?”

She turns at the question and faces Eren, though he is still staring down at the city, transfixed by the sight of bright headlights crossing the grid beneath him. “I’m afraid you’ll have to be more specific, Eren.”

“It’s just… I don’t understand why Mr. Ackerman has brought me here, what purpose he has in it. You know him, I thought maybe you might.”

Hanji chuckles as she comes to sit on the couch behind him, legs folded beneath herself. “Might know him? I may live with him, but I don’t think even I know Levi.” she hums in a thoughtful tone, laughter shining in her eyes. “You’re obviously more than just someone to fill his bed, the way he’s been treating you is clear of that. But I couldn’t say why he brought you here or what his purpose is. I could speculate, but I suppose we’ll both just have to wait and see what he really has planned.”

Eren’s eyes stay on moving lights below. He isn’t sure if that’s comforting or not, but Hanji at least doesn’t seem worried. “You’re really different from him,”

At that, she laughs fully. “I think most everyone is. Levi is truly one of a kind,” she muses as she vainly tries to tuck her numerous flyaways back where they belong only for the hair to fall out of place once more. “It’s why we became friends in the first place. He’ll look at you when you’re ill and tell you he’s seen shit that looks better than you, but if you look close enough you can see he cares and he just doesn’t know how to show it. Quite the curiosity.”

After a few minutes as Eren takes a seat by her, he says, “I haven’t been around him much yet, but the more time I spend with him the less I can believe that he’s the guy singing love ballads that I see so many swoon over.”

“Everybody has to show emotion some way; most choose to talk about how they’re feeling, but Levi has always found his reprieve in music. If I had to speculate, I think he sees it as an impersonal way for him to be personal.”

Eren nods as he mulls that over. Assuming his wife knew him best and what she says is true, what did Levi have planned for him? He turns to look at her - she definitely does have that bookish appeal, she could have landed a true husband easily. “You really don’t mind this then?” he asks, elaborating when she cocks her head. “That he brings men… Him being… A-a poof and all?”

“Ah,” Hanji shrugs. “Why should I? I know that I don’t have any sort of romantic feelings for him - all my love for him is almost as a sister. As for his sexuality, I’ve never really understood the stigma. I suppose those who believe in a god see it as going against that god’s teachings, but I don’t feel overly religious myself. So long as it is consensual, I hardly see a reason why people can’t bed whomever they want, within reason of course. I’ve heard the argument ‘Where does it end?’ To which I’ve always said, ‘Where would it go to?’ It’s two consenting adults, isn’t that what sex has always been about? I could see their argument if this was about sexual predators, but it’s just two consenting adults.” She laughs to herself. “Ahhh, so long answer short: no, it doesn’t bother me at all.”

Eren nods to himself then blinks. He’s probably been very rude, delving into the private lives of people he doesn’t even know. His mother raised him to be more polite. He gives Hanji a bright smile. “So you mentioned you have an interest in science? That’s unusual for a woman.”

“More common than you might think,” she hums without sting to her words. “But I do. Unfortunately, as of late, I find my skills being used more when I listen to radio reports of the war. It’s been ages since I’ve found something proper to test. This war is just-”

With the click of opening a lock, Mr. Ackermann sticks his head out his door, his hair pushed back, now from water rather than pomade, his bare shoulders causing Eren to stare and wish he would step out just a little more. “You two morons don’t plan on yammering all night, do you?”

Chuckling good-naturedly, Hanji shakes her head. “No, dearest.” Eren is starting to think those pet names she uses are in mockery of their situation. “I was beginning to think a bit of sleep sounded good myself. Be a little kinder to our guest, would you? Don’t torture the poor boy.” She gets to her feet and shoots Eren a wink. “Good night, Eren. I have enjoyed our little chat; perhaps we can talk more in the morning.”

He watches her head down the opposite hall to her own room, where she turns on the radio and shuts her door. When his attention comes back to the singer, Levi has stepped out of his room fully, in just a towel, and -  _ shit, he’s hot . _ He’s always looked attractive and charming in his tailored suits, but this is different. Now his rippling muscles and svelte frame are all on display, and Eren starts thinking that he could very much enjoy sex if that’s what is asked of him.

Either Mr. Ackermann doesn’t notice his staring or blatantly ignores the drooling boy’s gaze as he leans a shoulder against the wall, glancing out the floor to ceiling windows. “A bit late to be walking home. Sleep wherever you want, kid: the couch, the table, hell, kip at the foot of my damn bed if you want. I don’t give a damn.”

Maybe seeing his idol half naked should make Eren more bashful, maybe he should be a little bit less obvious in his staring, but really he just finds himself feeling more brazen and cheeky the longer he studies those ridges of taut muscles. “What about in your bed?”

Mr. Ackermann’s eyes flicker towards him before his apathetic expression is back as he pushes off the wall. “I did say I don’t care, didn’t I? Just don’t wake me up.”

That’s probably the most straightforward invitation Eren can expect from him. Eren steps into his room and lets the door shut softly. It is possibly just as big as the sitting room, with the same wood paneled walls, red and black accents, and even a smaller version of the chandelier in the sitting room. Mahogany wardrobes stand on either side of an upright piano, the word  _ Steinway  _ inlaid in gold above the keys. Steam still trickles from the adjoined bathroom, Eren just barely catching a glimpse of mottled black and white marble counters and a claw foot bathtub. It’s all so elegant, it’s a wonder anything so high end exists out of England.

Levi tosses his towel in a wooden hamper - he obviously doesn’t feel any sort of embarrassment over being seen naked - and trades it for a pair of tight black boxers before he lays in the sizeable bed and pulls his blankets over his bare chest. Meanwhile, Eren has started to find his own sense of shame again and his anxiety begins to flare once more. It’s one thing to playfully suggest they sleep together, another to actually have it happen. He is more than a little cautious as he leans a knee on the bed, but Mr. Ackermann doesn’t give any objection to the mattress dipping. Eren can’t make himself move, staying balanced there on one foot as he slowly adds more weight to the knee on the bed.

“For God’s sake, Eren! Just lay down!”

He jumps at the outburst then nods and quickly gets under the covers as Mr. Ackemann grumbles to himself. “Swear to God, a mouse has more courage than you. I would have said something if I had a problem with you sleeping here.”

Heart pounding, Eren tries not to move too much as he adjusts the plush pillows. As he finally settles down, he glances at the lights. Should he offer to get up and turn them off? That would be polite, wouldn’t it? 

Just as he opens his mouth, Mr. Ackermann throws back the blankets and stands. The boy’s eyes go wide. Did he do something wrong? He crossed a line, and now he is going to be turned over to the- “I don’t want you keeping me up all night, tossing and turning because you can’t get comfortable.” Eren’s hands shoot up to catch the pair of light cotton pajama pants and a shirt. He blinks at the clothing. No, sleeping in his work uniform isn’t something to look forward to but he had prepared himself to do it - asking for clothing seemed too familiar. 

“Change here, change in the bathroom, just hurry up and do it,” commands Mr. Ackermann as he gets in bed once more.

Eren nods and slips into the bathroom, flipping on the light. Hanji’s words come to mind as he unbuttons his shirt.  _ He’ll look at you when you’re ill and tell you he’s seen shit that looks better than you, but if you look close enough you can see he cares.  _ Maybe he is starting to see the truth to that. She also mentioned that Levi isn’t treating him just like a lay. Does that mean he doesn’t find Eren attractive? That thought stung a little. But maybe he has some other motive, something Eren couldn’t think of? That is more than possible - Eren’s been too agitated lately to really give much thought to it. Mr. Ackermann seems like a smart man, and Eren can admit he’s a little lacking in the wits department; it wouldn’t be out of character for Mr. Ackermann to have something more complex in mind than Eren can fathom.

He folds his clothes and leaves them on the counter to change into tomorrow. He steps out and lays in bed once more; Mr. Ackermann stretches an arm out to the bedside table and flicks the light off. It’s pitch black at first, then Eren’s eyes adjust to the soft moonlight that peeks in through gaps in the curtains. His eyes flick towards Levi when he hears soft, deep breathing; the singer really had been tired. _ _

And then it all hits him.

He is in bed by  _ Levi Ackermann. _

A man he admired for so long; a man who captivated him as he strutted on stage; a man who could have any pick of women he’d like; a man who could croon prettier than any songbird.

_ And Eren is in bed with him. _

Eren covers his face as he feels a sudden rush of delight in his chest; it spreads through his body, warming him all the way down to his toes - even his cheeks feel hot with excitement. What had he been so worried about all this time? Levi clearly has no ill wishes for him. He grins through the gaps in his fingers. Levi Ackermann wanted a lowly waiter around; Eren wasn’t going to waste a moment of the time they spent together.


	3. Old Devil Moon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm glad to see there's a bit of intrigue around this. I hope you'll all keep reading, there's lots planned!

As well as Eren is getting to know the singer, he still has no clue what to expect when Levi asks him if he has work the following day. All he knows is when Mr. Ackermann asks him to keep his schedule open, he keeps his schedule open.

It doesn’t, however, keep him from pacing to and fro on the pavement in front of his apartment, or from adjusting his coat, or trying to get his hair to lay flat then picking at his nails. At least the beginning chill of upcoming winter gives him something else to focus on - because right now his heart is pounding. Usually, they only see each other after shows, when they head back to Levi’s apartment in the moonlight. They’ve never gone around town together; what if rumours start? Eren doesn’t want to be the cause for Mr. Ackermann losing his career and passion.

Not only that, but this is just so… unstructured. Eren has gotten used to the routine: they walk rather than drive to the apartment building because Mr. Ackermann likes the quiet time after performing, they have a drink, usually tea, and either listen to the radio or talk with Hanji - who can even coax Levi into playing a card game now and then. A number of nights have been spent in relative silence, Hanji and Eren both reading while Mr. Ackermann scrawls ideas in his notebook. Some nights Levi will even pad off to his grand piano and play for them; on those occasions, they tend to have very late nights as he plays whatever piece appeals to him - anything from ragtime to impressionist, with a few requests from Hanji thrown in. Levi heads off to shower after a while, leaving Hanji plenty of time to tell stories about her grumpy husband or regale Eren with her latest scientific thesis, then the night ends with Levi and Eren falling asleep in the same bed, and should he wake to find Levi pressed against his back, it’s simply from the cold, right? It isn’t like Mr. Ackermann has made any other sort of pass at him, just those moments when he finds Levi nuzzling between his shoulder blades. In the morning, since he wakes earlier than the singer, Eren will help Hanji with breakfast - though her cooking skills are far better than he could ever hope for. He’ll have some coffee, without cream unfortunately since neither of the Ackermanns take it. Levi will stumble out of his room, the past few weekends it’s been with a blanket still wrapped tightly around his bare shoulders, with stubble darkening his cheeks and blinking against the sunlight. After they eat, the two men will both go shave, dress, and brush their teeth; they’ve learned to coexist with each other by now so no longer is Eren awkwardly bumping into Levi. While they may have worked out the kinks in their morning routine, leaving is still always awkward. Eren realises he can’t very well stay all day - at the very least he has his day job at a corner store - but he has come to dread departing for many reasons. A hug just seems far too familiar while a handshake is too formal; one time, before he left, Mr. Ackermann tried to fix his messy mop of hair, to no avail, and it left Eren blushing all day long.

Eren is nearly sure he’ll have plenty to blush after today. Mr. Ackermann knows how to handle all his adoring fans, but he’s more than a little inept at any other social interaction. 

He looks up at every car that passes. He doesn’t expect the call of, “Oi, Eren!” He turns quickly as Levi strolls up to him, hands buried deep in the pockets of his pea coat. “Don’t just stand there, come on.”

Eren nods and quickly falls into step beside him. “Where are we heading to?”

“To get you a proper suit.” Mr. Ackermann says it as if it isn’t a big deal, as commonplace as buying groceries. “I’ve seen yours, it’s shit.”

“I-I don’t have the money for that!”

The singer fixes him with a flat look. “Well, it’s a good thing I didn’t expect you to buy, now isn’t it?”

Eren blinks. “No, I can’t ask that of you.”

“Well, you’re not asking,” 

“Really, you don’t have to-”

“Woof.”

Eren clamps his mouth shut. Right, he is a pet and pets go along with whatever their master says. They don’t argue or talk back, they obey and wag their tail. He nods and follows. Part of him expects to see a bright red leash hanging between them, one end hooked to his make-believe collar and the other side looped around Mr. Ackermann’s wrist.

Some people stare as they walk down the snowy streets, a couple point, but otherwise Levi’s bulky pea coat and low sitting fedora seem to keep him out of the public eye. Eren expects that he gets annoyed by all the attention. He barely likes the attention of his wife after all and she’s only one person, not crowds of them.

The only thing to break the heavy silence between them is the dinging of a bell when they enter the tailor. “I’ll be with you in one moment!” a voice calls from the back.

“Take your time.” Mr. Ackermann sits in one of the few leather armchairs and crosses his legs, one arm draped across the back. He glances at Eren, who shuffled his weight from foot to foot by the door. “Are you always this awkward when you go somewhere new?”

“Oh! U-uh, I, um-”

“Don’t answer, just sit down.”

Eren almost winces at the singer’s cutting tone and quickly lowers himself into a similar armchair. As he settles a man comes from the back, blond hair slicked back from his face, baby blue eyes lighting up when he sees his customers. “Mr. Ackermann! It’s been a while! What can I do for you today?”

“Good afternoon, Mr. Church. Nothing for me today, it’s my companion, Mr. Jaeger here, who needs fitting.”

His gaze falls on Eren and he smiles widely. “Good afternoon, my fine sir! I’m Furlan Church and if you wouldn’t mind, I’d love to be getting your measurements. If you would kindly-”

“Mr. Church,  _ if you would kindly _ get a move on and just take the fucking measurements, that would be a great service to us all." Furlan hardly even blinks at such brusque and churlish words. Eren has since learned that Mr. Ackermann’s behaviour towards a person indicates how well they know one another: he is polite only to strangers; to those close to him he lets the full force of his crude tongue loose. They must be fairly good acquaintances.

Furlan gives a good-natured laugh as he grabs his measuring tape. “Remove your coats please, Mr. Jaeger.”

Eren stands to hang his light jacket - it may be mid-Autumn and light snowfall may already be bringing in the winter chill, but Eren finds he is more resilient to cold and doesn’t have the need to start bundling up in layers so soon in the season. He stands in front of a tri-fold mirror, his arms outstretched as Mr. Church measures first the length of his torso and legs, moving on to the breadth of his arms. Eren finds it awkward to just stand there as Mr. Church practically fusses over him; the blond and Levi make a bit of small talk, mentioning how much colder it is than last year, about his latest business trip to Cincinnati, and the recent foreclosure of a tea shop they shared a fancy for.

“Now how many suits am I making for you, Mr. Jaeger?” asks Furlan as he wraps the measuring tape around Eren’s chest then jots down the number.

“Um… I don’t really know…”

Mr. Church doesn’t seem to mind the answer as he looks over the dimensions he’s taken down. “You know, Mr. Jaeger, you’ve got good measurements - average but wonderfully proportionate. You could be a great model, definitely one all the girls would swoon over with those eyes of yours. I’ve actually been invited to show off my designs at a function this spring, I’m almost tempted to ask you-”

They both jump at a sudden clatter and whip quickly around to see Mr. Ackermann, his face passive as ever but his eyes are hard as he stands among the needles, thimbles, and scissors from the box that had been elbowed off the counter. “Navy. A navy one will suit him.” His tone is clipped, words terse. “Charcoal too, double-breasted. And he’ll be needing proper evening wear as well.” Levi strides between the tailor and Eren; the air feels almost volatile as he looks up at Furlan. “And I can expect you’ll have it all done in a timely manner, as always?” Levi doesn’t wait for an answer before he turns to his companion. “Get your coat on, Eren, I find I’m rather famished.”

Eren is quick to obey, hurriedly fetching his jacket. Mr. Ackermann picks up a pair of scissors from the floor and twirls them deftly between his fingers as he fixes Mr. Church with a stony look. “I expect only the best from you.”

Mr. Church, whose features had been that of obvious shock before, now wears an untroubled, almost knowing, smile. He puts a hand over his heart, his eyes holding an amused glimmer in them. “Of course, Mr. Ackermann, you can always count on me.”

The silver bell tinkles again as they exit the shop, stepping out onto a street that has become busy with office workers heading quickly to grab lunch during their free hour. “Uh,” Eren watches the back of the singer’s head as he walks briskly. “I know a pretty good restaurant not far from here. It’s kinda small so even at noon it’s not overly busy, but their food is gre-”

“I’m not hungry,” Levi cuts in.

Eren open and closes his mouth a few times before he actually manages to get words to come out. “But you just said that you-”

Mr. Ackermann casts him an icy look over his shoulder, one full of so much venom it could kill a flower at peak bloom. “I don’t like repeating myself.”

“O-okay…” Eren shoves his hands deep in his pockets. Levi can be moody but this feels different, provoked. Had he done something wrong? He thought he was doing everything Mr. Ackermann asked him to. And the more he thought about it, the less he could come up with an action of his that would cause Levi’s temper to flare. This all just seemed to come out of the blue, starting with- “That box…” Eren thinks he can already see the tension in Levi’s shoulder even though the question hasn’t been asked. “I wasn’t paying a lot of attention but I didn’t think it was very near the edge. How did it fall?”

When he gets no answer he prods again. “I mean, I don’t even think it was close enough for a little bump to the table to knock it off, right? But I didn’t hit the table and neither did Mr…..”

Eren’s words trail off when Mr. Ackermann makes a sharp turn towards a man with a metal cart. He orders quickly and brings back a hot cup, shoving it in Eren’s hands. “Drink this and shut the fuck up.”

Sometimes it’s hard to tell if Levi is being rude out of familiarity or if he’s just straight up pissed off.

He isn’t cold yet Eren still drinks the hot chocolate to appease the singer. He trudges on, feeling the warmth of it spreading through his hands and belly. He supposes that Levi’s anger isn’t directed at him but that also doesn’t give him any clue as to why Mr. Ackermann is in such a foul mood - well, more foul than usual.

Part of him is disappointed when Levi guides him back to where their day had started - in front of Eren’s apartment complex; he had expected their time together to be a bit longer. Was it being cut short because of the sudden shift in atmosphere? Whatever the reason, Eren is still reluctant to part so soon. He cradles the cup between both hands as he shifts his weight from foot to foot. “Uh… I’d invite you up for coffee but I, uh, don’t really have a lot of groceries right now.” Maybe it’s just him but the look Mr. Ackerman gives him seems interested so he explains, “I’ve been staying with my friend - Armin, he, uh, doesn’t live too far from here, just a couple blocks - but I’ve been staying with him for the past little while. It’s still a little hard to be at home after the way Jean left and all…”

Eren looks down at his empty cup when he feels a chill run through him. He isn’t terribly susceptive to cold but, God, has it dropped ten degrees or something?

“Don’t worry about it.” The words probably should be casual and unconcerned but they feel flinty and callous to Eren. Everything feels like it’s shifted, like Mr. Ackermann has closed himself off and now only wants this interaction to be over as soon as possible.

Eren swallows, though his throat feels tight. Okay, he obviously fucked up somewhere along the line but how? More importantly how the hell is he supposed to fix it? Maybe just give Levi his space? That seems like something the singer would like. “Well… Give Hanji my best.”

“Yeah. Evening.” The laconic reply said over Mr. Ackermann’s shoulder as he walks off stings Eren more than it probably should. Definitely fucked up.

_ God fucking damn it. _


	4. Nice 'N' Easy

“Trust me, Armin, once you hear him in person, you’ll never want to listen to a record again!”

Talking his manager into allowing Eren to bring Armin back into the kitchens so he could watch hadn’t been an easy endeavour but definitely a worthwhile one. Neither of them had the money for such a high-end place but Eren desperately wanted to show his friend the magic of Mr. Ackermann’s voice in person, even if it did mean he would be pulling double shifts for the next week.

He may be in full-fledged fan mode right now where he can only drool over the singer he has admired for so long, but things between them personally have been strained since that day at the tailor. It seems as if Levi is more reluctant than ever to share any detail minorly personal, the few nights he plays for his wife and Eren no longer have any sort of ad-lib to them, instead staying resolutely to the original piece he plays, and he seems to never change in front of the boy anymore. Maybe these are little things but they all seem to be symptoms of Levi’s pulled back attitude,

Eren wants to make amends, of course, but it’s hard to fix a problem when there’s no clear cause.

Not that he worries about that tonight, because tonight is about treating Armin. Armin, who has been so patient and helpful towards him, letting Eren spend weeks on his sofa without complaint, always greeting Eren with a smile when he shows up again at the end of a day, and sitting with him when his bouts of depression and guilt make it hard for him to get out of bed. Armin has gently suggested that maybe going back to his apartment might be the start of Eren forgiving himself after how he and Jean left off but still he lets his friend take his time. And this is Eren’s way of thanking him for it all.

“I know it isn’t the best view but I promise you can hear perfectly from here,” Eren says as he leads Armin to a small table with only one seat tucked away in the corner. It’s where servers will sit as they fold napkins and prepare silverware sets or sometimes take meals; it’s an out of the way spot, mostly hidden from the rest of the cabaret, but the acoustics still make it a wonderful spot to listen from.

“Anything is perfect. Thank you so much for this, Eren.” Armin beams as he takes the seat. “I really never thought I’d get to see one of his shows, they’re so expensive.”

Eren grins. “Just consider me the best friend ever then.” 

Eren ducks back to the kitchen to take plates; he brings Armin a bowl of chowder when he gets the chance between serving tables. When the lights begin to dim Eren is quick to get back to his side, he wants to see the wonder on Armin’s face when Mr. Ackermann starts singing. The band plays an intro as the curtains begin to part; a spotlight shines on the microphone where a blonde woman even shorter than Mr. Ackermann stands in a black dress with embroidered velvet roses. “Wow!” Armin gasps as he leans across the table for a better look. “Annie Leonhart! All the A-list singers perform here, don’t they?”

Her voice is lovely, clear and crisp with every word enunciated; yet it isn’t right, not at all. She shouldn’t be up there, her dress swinging around her shins as she sways her hips. No, it shouldn’t be her; it should be Levi up there in his tailored three-piece, snapping out the beat, his voice hushing every other noise in the room as he mesmerizes and charms his audience. 

Eren tries to wet his lips with a tongue that’s much too dry to do the job. He saw the schedule for this weekend, it had definitely read  _ Levi Ackermann _ , so where is he? Why is it Ms. Leonhart up there and not Levi? Every reasoning Eren thinks up makes a dark, black pit form low in his stomach and it only grows worse as he watches the wrong person saunter across the stage. “I’ll be back,” he says to Armin in a voice that comes out more than a little strained.

He is quick to step into the kitchen where his manager is. “Ms. Brzenska! Rico!” he calls out. The small woman fixes him with a look through her glasses that is cold and calculating. She’s a woman who keeps herself as objective as possible, a good trait for a manager of a place as busy as this.

“This better be urgent, Eren. One of our grills is down, I don’t have time to deal with petty problems.”

“Sorry, ma’am,” he apologises on reflex. “It’s just- where’s Mr. Ackermann? I thought he was performing tonight?”

Rico scoffs and waves her hand. “I got a call this morning that he wouldn’t be able to perform this evening.”

“Why?” Is Levi really so upset with him?

“Head cold or something, lost his voice. I don’t remember. All I know is it’s a little hard to sing without one. Was this all you needed, Eren?”

“Y-yeah… Sorry, ma’am, I won’t bother you anymore.”

Agitation sits heavy in Eren’s chest the rest of his shift; he tries not to show it, tries to wear a smile as he serves the patrons, tries to keep up a cheery appearance every time he checks on Armin - who seems to have forgotten that they were supposed to be seeing Mr. Ackermann tonight and enjoys all the other performers. After all the strings he had to pull and favours he promised (all a waste, it seems), Eren can’t very well leave before closing but right now that’s all he wants to do. He can’t stand to keep jotting down orders and taking dishes, not when everything in him wants to go see Levi. It has to be a pretty serious illness for him to not perform, right? Eren can’t think of a time he’s ever canceled a show; this probably isn’t a first but that doesn’t ease the tense knot in Eren’s chest in the slightest.

“Thank you so much for tonight, Eren.” the blond says after the rest of the diners have gone and the staff gets to work on tidying up.

“Of course, you’re welcome,” Eren replies without much thought, distracted as he is. “Listen, I don’t know if I’ll be coming back to your apartment tonight.”

“Oh, are you going home?” There’s a pride in Armin’s eyes, glad his friend might be starting to fully heal from his heartbreak.

“Maybe, I don't know. I’ve got a key so don’t wait up for me, okay?”

Armin nods. “Thanks again, Eren.”

“Yeah, be safe!” he calls as Armin grabs his coat and heads out.

For all the months he’s worked here, Eren doesn’t think he’s ever cleaned faster after closing. Granted, it might not be the best job he’s ever done but it’s passable, and as soon as Rico gives him the go-ahead Eren is out the door without even taking off the apron around his waist. He all but runs down the street as he struggles to pull on his jacket. Plenty of couples are still out, enjoying an evening on the town; Eren is more than a little annoyed by the crowds that block his path as he races down the sidewalks illuminated by street lamps and light flooding out of nearby buildings - he has somewhere to be, damn it!

Eren is out of breath by the time he gets to the luxurious apartment building. He may not know the doorman’s name but they do know each other by face and share a wave as Eren hurries to the elevator, which feels much, much too slow for his liking, but it does give him time to actually breathe. Unease has him bouncing on the balls of his feet by the time he gets to the proper floor and it’s nearly impossible for him not to run to the suite.

Hanji answers his near frantic knocks, obviously confused by who might be calling at this hour but then it turns quickly to a warm smile. “Eren!”

“Where’s Levi?” he asks brusquely as he steps into the apartment. In the dining room sits the singer, a thick blue duvet on his shoulders as he hunches over a bowl of steaming broth. He’s more pale than usual and his eyes red. He sits up a little, snorting in the back of his throat.

“Damn, kid, I’m not dying,” he says in a voice that’s weak and rough.

Eren is quick to take the chair next to him, his hand immediately going up to feel Levi’s clammy forehead. Mr. Ackermann knocks him away. “But I am definitely ill.”

“I guess I got worried when you didn’t show up,” explains Eren, eyes lowered bashfully.

“You hear this?” Levi rasps then turns his head as he lets out a grating cough, one that sounds painful and makes Eren wince in sympathy. “You think I could sing in this shitty condition?”

“I wanted to be sure you’re alright.” The words are out without much thought behind them but now that Eren considers it that’s the only logical explanation for why he would sprint here at such a late hour.

“I’ll be fine in a day or two. Last I checked, people don’t die from laryngitis.”

“You gotta stop talking, it’ll make it worse.”

Levi considers the boy from the corner of his eye. “Two seconds ago you were demanding an explanation and now you’re clucking at me like a mother hen?” he snorts which causes him to have to quickly put a hand over his nose as he reaches for a tissue, disgust obvious on his face. “Quit fussing; I’m a grown-ass man, I can deal with a cold.”

“You should finish your soup, it’ll help.”

Levi rolls his eyes, which is possibly the most outward expression Eren has ever seen him give. “What next? Gonna make sure I wash behind my ears and make my bed? Already got Hanji nagging at me, I don’t need you joining in. I’ll be fine. Just a cold,” he reiterates.

The idea now implanted in his head, Eren leaps to his feet. “I’ll run you a bath!” he exclaims. “It’ll help cool you down!” And then he is off down the hall to Levi’s room.

Incredulous, Levi twists in his seat to look back at Hanji, who watched all of this with a hand over her face to hide her bemused expression. “Does he even hear me? I know I sound like shit but I am actually talking, right?”

“Didn’t even take his shoes or coat off,” she hums, a maternal sort of fondness in her voice.

“What a shitty little brat.”

Hanji chuckles as she takes the bowl of now-cold broth. “Oh, let the happy little puppy be. He just wants to take care of you,” she says in the ton of a middle school girl teasing her friend over their crush as she rinses the dish.

“Shut up, four eyes,” he grumbles before curling as he coughs again, shoulders shaking.

“Have fun!” grins Hanji when Eren returns and absolutely insists Levi come bathe. He grumbles at first but Eren finally manages to coax him from his warm duvet and to the washroom.

“I tried not to make it too warm so you don’t overheat but not too cold either, hopefully it’s a good temperature. Armin also says mint is good to help soothe sore throats so I added a little bit of that to the water. And I found the fluffiest towel I could for you!” he rambles on without any notice of Levi, who holds a hand to his aching head as he leans against the wall.

“Eren-”

“Come on, take your clothes off and get in,”

“Eren-”

“And I’ll put on a kettle for you, I’ll be sure to add lots of honey and lemon to it!”

“Er-”

“And-”

“Eren, enough!” Levi finally snaps. Shouting hurts his voice but it's the only way for him to get the kid's attention. He keeps his hard gaze steady and fixed on Eren. “I’m not a fucking kid, I think I can handle it myself.”

“I just want-”

_ “Woof,” _

For a moment heavy silence lingers as Eren takes a step back. His eager expression fades and one can just see the walls going up. And then he freezes. And then he shakes his head. “No, I don’t care. I won't accept that. I don’t care if this is what makes you decide to turn me in. Because I’m your friend.” He stops. He hasn’t given a moment’s thought to it but they are friends, aren’t they? They spend nearly every weekend together simply coexisting, getting to know one another, enjoying the other’s presence. If that isn’t what makes a friend then what does? “Yeah, I’m your friend. And friends help each other, whether they need a place to crash or just making soup for a stupid little cold. I-I don’t really have a lot of friends, I’m not great at making them… So let me hold onto the ones I got. Let me help.”

Levi studies him for a long time before finally he clicks his tongue and starts to strip with an air of exasperation that says  _ Fine, do what you must.  _ The singer shivers against the air then sinks into the lukewarm water of the bath, mint tickling his nose.  _ He really is a puppy , _ Levi muses as he watches Eren, immediately back to bounding around and fussing. He sets the towel in arm’s reach and picks up the discarded clothes. He promises tea and another duvet before he’s practically bouncing out of the room.

“Little, loud puppy,” mutters the singer to himself as he sinks further in the water that serves to cool his fevered skin. As overly enthusiastic as Eren may be, and as tiring as it might be to deal with him, Levi won’t deny it feels just a little nice to be dotted on. The bath definitely helps cool him and stops the disgusting trails of sweat he’s been wiping off his forehead for hours, and the mint vapors from the water have opened up his throat and made his breathing less hoarse and gasping. Maybe Eren’s abundance of energy is a bit more bearable when actually applied to something.

Tepid water eventually goes colder and Levi wraps the towel around his shoulders as he gets out. Already tremors begin to wrack his body. Damn it, being sick fucking sucks. As much as he doesn’t care for pajamas, he still dresses quickly in a flannel set to keep himself warm. Seems Eren had done as promised, if the new down comforter on the bed is anything to go by. Speak of the devil, said boy comes in with a steaming cup of tea. If Levi’s stuffed nose can be trusted, it smells like oolong. Eren holds it for him while he shimmies under the sizeable stack of blankets then Eren feels his forehead after he takes the cup.

“I’m not gonna get better after one damn hour,” he grumbles before sipping the tea. It’s sweeter than he likes, usually taking it black, but the honey in it will help.

Eren cracks a smile at his petulance. “Doesn’t mean I can’t check.”

Levi mutters something that is likely more bitching before his attention turns to nursing his drink. Eren closes any gaps in the curtains to keep out starlight, making the room nearly pitch black, then takes a seat next to the singer’s feet. When Levi finishes the tea, Eren holds the cup for him while he nestles deeper beneath the quilts. 

“Is there anything else you need?” he asks as he watches Levi fussily rearrange pillows like a bird trying to perfect its nest.

“You can clean the piano room for me - I had planned to do it today before all this shit went down.”

It may seem like a bit of razzing on the singer’s part but he still nods as Levi finally settles into his burrow of duvets and pillows, grey eyes already drooping with sleep. Hesitating, Eren reaches down and brushes back his bangs, damp from his bath and sweat. “I’ll get it done for you; just rest.”

Then Eren takes the teacup to the kitchen and washes it out. Considering the hour, he can wait until morning to tidy up the piano room, he decides as he carefully wipes water from the porcelain. Levi’s always gotten up later than him and his being ill will probably make him sleep in even longer; should leave plenty of time for the job in the morning.

He sleeps on the sofa that night, not out of fear of catching Levi’s illness - Eren has always healed quickly - but worried that climbing into bed would wake Levi. He doesn’t mind too much, he’s been sleeping on Armin’s sofa for countless nights now in an effort to avoid going home; Levi’s health is much more important than one night of comfort.

He wakes when Hanji starts work on breakfast. “Morning, Hanji,” he calls as he sits up, voice rough from sleep, and wipes the grogginess from his eyes. Without giving himself time to fully wake up, he immediately sets on his assigned task. “Hey, could you tell me where the cleaning supplies are?”

She looks up, an amused gleam in her eyes. “Oh? Did he talk you into cleaning for him? I keep telling him we ought to just hire a maid - it would give me someone to talk to when he isn’t around - but he insists on doing it all himself. I’m surprised he trusted you to do it, he’s so particular about how he likes things cleaned.”

“Right,” Eren nods along good-naturedly as he wonders not for the last time at the dynamic of their relationship. Sometimes it’s a marvel that Levi puts up with her, considering how much Hanji talks, especially about things that aren’t strictly relevant, and how little the singer does himself. “So where is it all?”

“Oh, under the cabinets here.”

She helps Eren gather a feather duster, rags, and a bucket of soapy water. She points him to the broom and mop as well. Then he steps into the piano room, flicks on the light, and wonders why the actual hell he prepared so much for this. The room is already spotless, what exactly is he supposed to be cleaning?!

Still… He promised Levi he would take care of it; at the very least he gives everything a quick once over, clearing nonexistent dust from the piano and chandelier, sweeping and mopping a floor that doesn’t need it. Overall Eren doesn’t think the room looks any different now than it did before his attempt to clean it but at least he can say he did it.

With Hanji reminding him where everything goes Eren gets it all put away. As he washes out the bucket, Levi emerges from the room; a blanket is wrapped around his shoulders as he shivers, his sweaty cheeks flushed pink while the rest of his face is more pallid than normal, his breathing gruff. Eren is immediately by his side, checking his temperature with a palm on his forehead. The singer grumbles but doesn’t do more than that as he plops down at the table. “Can I get anything for you? Water? Tea? Another blanket?”

“My notebook,” he rasps. His voice is still a harsh croak but at least he doesn’t seem to wince with every word. “Should be on the piano, if not the grand then the one in my room. ...Tea would be nice too,” he adds.

“Of course,” Eren smiles. He gets the kettle on the stove first; he hadn’t seen the notebook during his cleaning which means it is still in the bedroom. He fetches it then strains the tea leaves, both cup and notebook then handed to Levi, who grunts a thanks. Eren butters toast for them both then takes a seat by the singer.

A comfortable air settles over them as Eren nibbles his toast and Levi absently sips his tea as he writes lyrics in his notebook and scrawls comments about tunes in the margins. Eren finds his eyes transfixed on Levi as he mouths the words and tries to find the right rhythm, tapping out the beat with the eraser of his pencil. His brows are furrowed, the creases between them deeper than usual, and other than the occasional cough he turns away for, he is entirely engrossed in his work. Eren finds a certain beauty in it, the way Levi focuses himself entirely to the point where even his tea has been forgotten. The world bustles on streets stories below them as commutes are made and shopping trips are taken but for Levi, the only thing that exists is him at this table as he pens his latest composition. The quiet delight Eren finds in it isn’t at all like what he feels when he sees Levi on stage - no, that is an allure that captivates him completely, brings the singer a sort of untouchable magnificence; yet this is different, this is so plain, so mundane. Watching him work like this, like any other normal man on the street, has such an unvarnished charm to it that brings Eren an odd sort of warmth, one that seems to make him feel full. It is so splendidly ordinary that it has, somewhere along the line, become extraordinary. He decides that he prefers this indisputably: Levi next to him wrapped in a blanket as they enjoy a cozy silence over the inviolable, ethereal Mr. Ackerman.

When Levi closes his notebook and slips his pencil into the elastic band sewn on the edge Eren comments, his cheek leaned against his fist, “You’ve always slept more than me but even then you slept in late today.”

Levi makes an unflattering snort. “More than you? You realise I don’t sleep the whole night, right?”

Eren blinks as he sits up straighter. No, he hadn’t realised that at all. Wouldn’t he have felt it when Levi got up during the night?

“You sleep like a brick, kid.” Well… Levi isn’t the first person to accuse him of that. “This whole building could probably collapse and I doubt you’d wake up.”

The boy pouts. That might be a bit of an exaggeration.“But you always come to bed with me? And you’re asleep when I get up?”

“I do sleep a bit then, maybe an hour, hour and a half. Then I’m up, got shit to do,” Eren interprets that as cleaning; “I get back to bed about dawn for another hour, two at the most.” Levi shrugs and sips his surely-cold-by-now tea as if an average of three hours of sleep is perfectly normal for a functioning human being.

Catching sight of his concerned stare, Levi gets up and fluffs a hand through the boy’s hair as he passes to set the teacup in the sink. “Don’t worry about it, Eren. I manage with it. Besides, I slept plenty last night, definitely feeling better than yesterday because of it.”

“You seem better,” agrees Eren. “Definitely more talkative than usual.”

Levi gives his scoff of a laugh, settling this time on a sofa. “Chalk it up to my being ill. I could stop if it annoys you so much.”

“No, no, not at all,” Eren is quick to say as he joins the man on the leather couch. “I like getting to know more about you.”

Grey eyes study him for what feels like too long to be a good sign and it makes Eren worry if he is perhaps getting too personal with all this. But… He considers himself Levi’s friend, right? And friends know each other. So even if Levi still sees him as a pet, Eren resolves to make their friendship strong. “Tch, I’ll go back to being my bitchy self once this damn cold clears up.”

Eren chuckles. He fetches another blanket for Levi when he sees a tremor run through him. “Yeah, alright. For now just focus on getting better, okay?”


	5. I Get a Kick out of You

Crowds bustle through the shopping district - daughters beg for new dresses and dolls while their brothers oogle toy trains and planes; wives try to point out sparkling necklaces and bracelets and miss the hints their husbands drop for new pocket knives or watches. Voices echo between buildings, covering up the noise of crunching snow beneath thousands of feet. Honking cabs and jolly chorus groups with bands behind them only add to the cacophony of noises. Levi looks thoroughly and personally pissed off at all of them.

They don’t usually go shopping because of Levi’s general dislike for the populace - an amusing trait for someone whose career depends on his public image. But despite the rush of holiday shoppers, Levi had been insistent they go out. He scowls at the snow and the people and the cars and the general noisiness of it all; still his eyes hold a determination that says he isn’t going home until he gets what he came for.

Eren walks behind him. While the singer is bundled up in coats to fight the cold - other than the chill air biting his skin and drying it out - Eren doesn’t find it to be too bad himself. He longs to wrap his arms around Levi and warm him, or at the very least take his lithe fingers into his own palms and rub colour and heat back into them. But, all other reasons aside, Levi probably wouldn’t be too happy with the contact. Eren can’t help it though - he just looks so small against his layers of coats. For the sake of his companion, he keeps his hands to himself.

He doesn’t ask questions as he trails after Levi, who leads first to a See’s Candy store. Inside is crowded with buyers peering through the glass displays at lollipops and chocolates and toffees and brittles. Meanwhile, two women behind the counter, both in pristine white shirts and baby pink skirts, help fetch the asked for sweets and ring them up. The air smells of sugar and makes the mouth water - normally something Eren would enjoy but the packed space is pulling his mind from the simple pleasures. He bumps shoulders with everyone as he tries to keep up with Levi, whose small stature is easily hidden by the crowd. 

The fourth time Eren loses sight of him, he finally just grabs onto the back of the singer’s coat collar. Levi whips around with a virulent glare that quickly softens when he sees Eren rather than an overly physical fan. “It’s packed in here,” Eren explains. “I didn’t want to lose track of you.”

“I don’t see what I want anyway; we can go.”

They head back outside and Eren feels like he can take a proper breath again now there aren’t so many people pressed up against him. They go next to a mostly empty bookshop; Levi seems to know it well, as he disappears down the twisting aisles as soon as they enter. Eren isn’t overly fond of reading himself, but he glances around in remiss effort of finding a book Armin might be interested. He already has a Christmas present for his friend, but when he finds a collection of essays on biochemistry he more than happily shells out a few more dollars.

As the redhead woman running the till hands him the book, wrapped neatly in tissue paper, Levi returns from the depths of the shop, empty-handed and looking more annoyed than he had before. “Come on,” he mutters and Eren dutifully follows him out.

“Levi…” he starts slow, almost afraid to provoke the irked man. “What are we here for?”

At first Levi stews in his silence before he finally clicks his tongue, casting a look over his shoulder at Eren. “Tch. Even in a marriage like mine, you’re in trouble if you don’t get your wife a Christmas present.”

Eren almost laughs at the idea of Levi and Hanji exchanging gifts, sarcasm layering their false words of marital affection. He manages to stifle it and nods. “Well… Maybe there’s something in here,” he says with a smile and pulls Levi into a shop full of trinkets and curios and various novelties. He isn’t really sure what Hanji would like but there’s a wide selection of items, so why not try?

Once again, this store is little more than deserted so Eren leaves Levi to browse at his whim. Eren wanders to a glass display full of silver jewelry dishes, gold dipped roses, and brass pocket watches; carved crosses hang by pearl earrings. Two lights are aimed at the case, illuminating it and making all the different metals sparkle. All of it is gorgeous and well crafted but Eren finds his eye going to a specific piece: a white, six-sided music box. Gold accents shimmer in the light and a rose head adorns each side; the largest of the roses is on the lid, on top of faux tortoiseshell. The inside is all gold, with a swan carved into the underside of the lid. 

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” asks a petite blonde woman when she notices Eren’s fixed gaze. She opens the case to grab the item, twisting the key on the bottom. Eren’s eyes go wide as the familiar melody of Swan Lake plays, clear and sweet. It may be a little feminine but at the moment there is nothing he longs for more than this little music box.

Then he catches sight of the price tag and his heart sinks, leaving his mouth dry. Of course a beauty like this would be too much for him to afford. All that wonderful nostalgia of that tune being whistled while he and Mikasa played in spring blossoms taken away by a few handwritten digits.

He thanks her just as Levi politely calls for her attention to ring up the set of ivory hairpins he found. He must see the flash of disappointment in Eren’s eyes as the woman puts away the music box because he stops her with an interjection of, “The box as well.”

He fishes the money from his wallet as she wraps the items and sets them both in their own box. Eren can hardly believe his eyes, feeling as giddy as he had been low just a moment ago. He doesn’t bother arguing - Levi has set his mind getting it and nothing will sway him - he just lets all the warmth flood through his chest as Levi hands him the box on their way out of the shop and into the darkness of early night.

“You didn’t have to get this for me,” Eren says as he cracks the lid to peek down at the treasure.

Levi’s face is as expressionless as ever, but Eren wonders if he can’t see a smile crinkling the corners of those stormy grey eyes. “Well, I did, so shut up and accept it.” He hesitates for a moment then adds, “Merry Christmas, Eren.”

Eren is probably grinning like an overexcited child as Levi hails a cab but who can really blame him? He fully accepts the rare show of kindness the singer gives him and enjoys every last emotion it causes as they are driven to the apartment. 

They dine at a small restaurant just across the street from the apartment building. Eren sits with the box in his lap as he devours his pasta in a way that makes Levi click his tongue and slide his napkin over. Conversation is minimal but Eren hardly minds. Instead, he strokes his fingers across the tortoiseshell of the music box as he relives bygone days. He keeps the box clasped in his hands as the bill is paid and they cross the road.

As bubbly as Eren is now, Levi is equally placid as they wave to the doorman and step in the elevator. He’s probably more than a little exhausted from spending all afternoon surrounded by people. Eren hardly minds the somber change and tries to calm himself to give Levi a break as they enter the penthouse.

Levi flicks on the lights then hangs up his coat and toes off his shoes. He pads to the dark kitchen, turning on more lights before he grabs two crystal tumblers and a vintage scotch. “Come on, let's have a drink.”

Tucking the music box safely in the pocket of his hung up coat, Eren follows him to the sitting room. Levi doesn’t turn on the lights in here, not when the full moon gives enough illumination through the full length windows. Eren sits in the armchair across from him and takes an offered glass. “Looks like Hanji’s out,” he comments and takes a sip. He tries not to pull a face at the burn of the liquor - it’s definitely stronger than anything else he’s ever had; at least it’s smooth.

“No, she’s most likely at the library - it’s where she usually is if she isn’t here.” Levi holds his glass by the rim, small movements of wrist swirling the scotch. He glances towards the coat closet. “You really like that little box?”

“Yes,” Eren nods quickly. He almost gets up to fetch it, longing to hold it. “It plays Swan Lake, that was always my mother’s favourite.”

“Tchaikovsky.” Eren hears a note of approval in the singer’s tone. “Not a personal favourite of mine, but undoubtedly talented.”

Silence lingers for a moment as Eren gathers up a bit of courage to ask, “Was your mother a fan of music?” It isn’t a terribly prying question, but a personal question nonetheless. Even if he hadn’t had a long day of being social, Levi holds his cards close to his chest, anything that tries to get him to reveal his hand seems to irk him.

Levi’s gaze flicks to the young man then back out the window where he studies the dark cityscape. “Wouldn’t know,” His tone is still light and casual, as if he doesn’t really mind the probing. “She passed when I was young.”

“Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.”

Levi merely shrugs as he nurses his drink. “That’s what happens when you have syphilis; such is life.”

Eren blinks and clears his throat. It isn’t like Levi is wrong. He finishes his glass as he watches clouds float across the moon, covering it and dampening its light, before the wind pushes them forward and the room brightens once more. “It’s an amazing view,” he whispers into the stillness of the air. “Never one I thought I’d get to see.”

Surprisingly, Levi nods. “No. But it’s not bad at all.”

“No?” Eren turns his body to face the singer. “Didn’t dream of growing up to be a famous singer?”

“Dream?” Levi snorts in the back of his throat. “No, I didn’t really have the freedom to dream when I was a kid. You don’t get that kind of liberty when you live on the streets” He must see the surprise pass Eren’s face because he huffs out a humourless laugh and nods. “Yeah, bet you weren’t expecting that, right? Famed and renowned Levi Ackermann grew up a nasty little street urchin.”

Eren sits forward on his knees. He may have heard plenty of Hanji’s stories, but most of those happened after their marriage. She admitted she didn’t know much about Levi’s childhood, so Eren never heard about it. He wants to press, but asking more will make Levi stop, shut up like a clam pulled from the water. He’ll say what he wants to as long as Eren stays quiet.

“You know all these bad parts of town your mom told you to stay away from? All the back alleys and rundown buildings? Yeah, that’s where I was. No one wants to claim a whore’s kid. I guess there was one man who taught me how to use a knife and brought me food on occasions; otherwise, it was just me, the filth, and my empty stomach. You’re about as free as any slave on the streets. Everything in you is chained to trying to survive. You don’t get the luxury of dreams. The most you get is to wonder if you’ll die from your stomach trying to eat you from the inside out or a knife through the ribs. Most of the time, you can’t tell which is better.” Levi keeps his eyes focused on the winking stars as he refills his glass. “Then you get a taste of that freedom… And it’s the most addictive feeling in the world. Better than any alcohol or drug I know of. You get more and more, but it’s never enough. I could hold all those stars in my hand and it still wouldn’t be enough. There’s never enough to satisfy that craving. And nothing will stand in the way of that feeling of being _ free _ .”

He settles in his chair and crosses his legs, clearly done divulging himself. Eren finds it a lot to take in. He can’t imagine this well to do man in front of him dressed in rags, or his clean undercut grown out into an absolute rat’s nest of oily hair. He can’t imagine the suffering a child would go through, growing up alone on the streets of such a big city. While Eren was warm and safe in his home, while he helped his mother make dinner as she hummed Swan Lake, while he ran around the forests with his adopted sister and got into brawls with other kids, while he had a wonderful father to go home to and patch up his scrapes and bruises, Levi had no one. It was just him and a knife trying desperately not to die. While Eren could expect a home-cooked meal every night, Levi would be lucky for a moldy piece of bread. Eren’s heart ached. No child should have to experience that.

They sit there in silence as they watch the splayed beams of headlights pass below them on the streets. As time passes less and less cars are around, until eventually it is only a handful every few minutes. Levi glances at his watch, though there’s probably not enough light to read it. “Hanji must be with a friend; she would have been back by now.” He looks at Eren, darkness causing his eyes to seem deeper set than they are, giving the illusion of sharper cheekbones. “Want any more to drink?”

“No, thank you.” They both speak in soft tones, afraid to disturb the tranquil stillness of night and this feeling of almost intimacy that lingers in the air.

Levi nods and screws the top back on the bottle. He stands, footsteps soft as he goes to the piano. He pulls the bench back with a faint scraping on the tile, then alights upon the leather as elegant and delicate as any ballerina. Long, nimble fingers dance across the keys as he plays a soft intro. Eren soon picks out the tune - Swan Lake. His right hand plays the melody Eren heard his mother sing so many times while his left glides across the keys with a cantabile undertone. Levi’s body rises and falls with the music. Eren closes his eyes; he knows the piece well, and soon it will have a frantic sort of crescendo. But that doesn’t come. 

Instead, the melody changes to one Eren doesn’t know; it has a melancholy to it, yet something about it brings a quiet joy. Something that brings a sense of sadness but also warmth, a bittersweetness like finishing a good book - you may never be able to read it again and experience all the same surprises but you’ll never regret reading it. When he turns to the piano, Levi seems to barely be looking at the keys, letting his fingers move across ivory and ebony as they will.  _ Impersonally personal  _ is the phrase it brings to mind. Eren blinks. Levi had told much about himself through words, but music is a way he understood better, one he could convey more through. Eren listens as he bares his soul through this sweet adagio. Sometimes it rises, some refrains have an almost brash, crude staccato to them, but mostly it is calm and soft spoken. The key is some sort of harmonic minor that Eren at first finds odd sounding and eerie but soon becomes rich and familiar to him.

Eren finds he can sit in his armchair no longer and pads to the piano. He hesitates then places a knee behind Levi and leans down to wrap his arms around the man’s shoulder. Does he feel a tremble running through the singer? When Levi’s playing stops he worries he overstepped an unspoken line, but instead Levi brings a delicate, pale hand to rest atop Eren’s, his own dark and calloused. Levi’s foot still rests on the pedal, holding out the last note to ring in the air before slowly fading away. Levi leans back into his chest, body still now. Had he been worried Eren would reject him? That he would show all his darkest bits and Eren would deem him too ugly?

Eren finds himself choked up at the thought. As if he could ever leave this reclusive man who had quickly grown to be his friend. “Thank you,” he whispers, hoping Levi could hear the sincerity in his voice, hoping it is enough to convey just how grateful he is to finally be let inside the walls that have kept him from fully knowing Levi.

Levi squeezes his hand then gets to his feet. “We ought to get to bed, it’s late.”

They go about their nightly routine in comfortable silence - Levi brushes his teeth and strips down to his underwear as Eren takes a quick shower then fetches his messenger bag to change into his pajamas because it is far too cold to sleep in anything less than flannel. But Levi doesn’t seem to have an issue with the cold, just stacks another blanket on the bed before he lays and sprawls on his side. Curtains block out the bright moonlight, leaving Eren mostly blind in the darkness, but he can still tell that Levi has opted to face his side of the bed instead of the wall. Eren settles into the plush mattress and before long he can feel his mind quieting as sleep washes over him. 

As he lays somewhere between awake and asleep, in a state of mind that feels like a dream but not, reality yet fake, he feels chapped lips brush lightly, so lightly, against his own it might not have happened at all. His mind considers rousing him but no, sleep is so near, he might as well give in. The last thing he is only vaguely aware of is a hand brushing back his bangs as a deep voice whispers, “Good night, Eren.”


	6. The Way You Look Tonight

“Dear Lord, Eren, how do you ever manage to go somewhere new?”

Eren freezes at Levi’s brickbat. He knows to tends to fuss when he’s nervous - he pulls at his nails, picks loose threads off his clothes, straightens the knot of his tie for the hundredth time, and plays with the buttons on his white coat. It seems this time his fidgeting was especially bad, if his raw and bloody nail beds are anything to go by. Socially speaking, he isn’t very skilled, so to be invited to tag along with Levi to a Christmas Eve party that will have all the A list celebrities isn’t doing much for his anxiety. He never did have a lot of friends as a child: he was the weird kid who yelled a lot and constantly got into fights; it didn’t give him much of a chance to learn social grace, which has definitely come to bite him in the ass as an adult.

“S-sorry,” he stutters out then sucks a droplet of blood off his thumb.

He jumps when Levi places a hand on his shoulder. “Eren… Within fifteen minutes everyone there will be completely shitfaced. Even if you do make an ass of yourself, which I doubt you will, no one is going to remember it. Besides, you got Petra to guide you; she’s a people person.”

The blonde stops her conversation with Hanji when she hears her name and throws Eren a smile. He gives a little wave in reply. She’s a pretty young woman, sure, with red-blonde hair just a shade shy of being brown and big doe eyes that could melt anyone’s heart; her beauty might make the situation worse. For the evening he is to escort Petra, the pair on a sort of double date with Levi and Hanji, and her being all dolled up in her red tea gown doesn’t make him feel any less awkward about it all. She obviously hadn’t put in the effort for him - they both stated they just wanted to enjoy the party without making a big fuss out of it being a date, all of this having been said in the singer’s apartment before the drive; the reason for her effort is clear: Levi. Eren feels bad for her on two accounts, Levi being both married and homosexual. Poor Petra obviously doesn’t know the latter bit of information.

“Y-yeah… Everything’s good…” mutters Eren without conviction.

Any sort of belief he has in those words are gone as soon as the four step out of the limousine and already reporters with cameras have swarmed them, innumerable flashes making Eren’s eyes dance with dark stars . For the other three it isn’t a big deal. Hanji is gorgeous and pristine in her strapless black gown, Petra is more than charming with curls that bounce against her shoulders, and Levi’s timeless pinstripes are as alluring as always, the long top of his hair for once not gelled back rather let loose over his undercut in a near rebellious fashion. And Eren, well… Mr. Church had assured him a white dinner jacket over black slacks is entirely fashionable but he hardly feels that way as he follows the glamorous trio.

Bitter wind whips up snowflakes off the ground and even Eren finds the cold uncomfortable for once. All of this goes away when they step into the banquet hall, a room with vaulting gold ceilings, a crystal chandelier more grand than Eren’s ever seen before, and balconies wrap around the edges of the second and third stories. White Christmas lights are everywhere - twisted around banisters and pillars, draped above, even pinned around the edges of tables. Frost borders the windows but inside is perfectly warm, almost uncomfortably so as they step deeper into the multitude of men dressed in formal dinner jackets and women in evening gowns.

Even though his arm is linked with Petra’s, Eren keeps a close eye on the singer in front of him. He nearly giggles as Levi’s scowl gets deeper the further they go into the crowd. As passionate as he may be about music, Levi certainly isn’t cut out to be a celebrity. Men give him familiar handshakes as women cast him flirty smiles - in such cases, Hanji steps just a little closer to him, hardly out of jealousy but more for her husband’s comfort. Truly they would make a wonderful couple if circumstances were different.

“Levi!” a voice booms and Eren can very visibly see the singer roll his eyes before he turns to a tall man, his blond hair slicked back over dark undercut. 

“Erwin,”

“It’s been a while,” the man smiles, hardly deterred by Levi’s ever unsociable attitude.

Levi nods as Hanji’s face lights up. “Oh, Erwin! I didn’t know you would be here! How lovely! I have someone I would love for you to meet!” she exclaims as she pulls Petra forward. “Petra Ral, a lovely up and coming tap dancer! You and her will get along splendidly!”

Erwin gives a good natured smile as he bends and presses his lips against Petra’s gloved knuckles. “It is a pleasure, Miss Ral. I am Erwin Smith.”

“Enough with the grandiose, eyebrows,” grumbles Levi.

Eren shuffles his weight from foot to foot as the two women fall into easy conversation with Mr. Smith and Levi takes his usually position of silent observance. “You know Fred Astaire?!” Petra gasps, her cheeks rosy with mirth. “I’ve seen him only once in person myself.”

“Yes,” nods Mr. Smith. “A wonderfully talented man.”

“Erwin here knows all the big names everywhere; Broadway, Hollywood, Chicago, even St. Louis. He’s got quite the knack for finding talent - if it weren’t for him, who knows where my dear husband would be now?”

“You flatter me, Mrs. Ackermann,” Erwin says with a hearty laugh that bubbles from within his diaphragm “But even if it hadn’t been me, someone would have found Levi; a voice as golden as his is hard to hide.”

“Keep it in your pants, Erwin,” Levi grouses before his gaze turns to the boy. “Come on, Eren, let’s get a table to ourselves before we have to share one.”

Now that he has been addressed - as if he was merely a ghost before but brought to life when his name was uttered - Erwin’s piercing blue gaze turns to Eren and he smiles widely. “Ah, my apologies that I cut our introductions short, it seems I got preoccupied with Miss Ral. Erwin Smith, it is a delight to make your acquaintance.”

Eren hurriedly shakes the offered hand then wets his dry lips. “Uh, E-Eren Jaeger, Sir.” Erwin seems to be waiting for a title to be added to his name such as Hanji had done with Petra and the boy feels himself start to overheat as his embarrassment rises, colouring his cheeks and ears. “I-I’m nothing special, I’m-I’m just a waiter.” What a dumb child he is. He doesn’t belong here among high society. He’s a working man, a man who will labour his whole life without a day of rest until he’s put in the ground. He’s just a scruffy store clerk in the day and a humdrum waiter on the weekends. He shouldn’t be here, dining with opera singers and musicians and politicians and so many well read people that leave him feeling like he ought to be sitting in the corner with a dunce cap on his head like the idiot schoolboy he is. This isn’t where he belongs and no matter how he tries he will never be a part of this culture.

Leaning his elbow on Eren’s shoulder, Levi clicks his tongue. “Don’t listen to the kid, he’s an idiot.” Eren’s heart rests heavy in his shoes. He certainly is. How is he ever going to withstand college if he can’t even make it at a party? “Eren is more special than any of these mucky-mucks.” Eren blinks and quickly looks at Levi as he straightens up. “Now hurry up already, I don’t want to share with people. I assume you’ll be with us, Erwin, I’ll make sure Hanji doesn’t take your seat with her purse.”

“I gladly accept your invitation,” Erwin grins, and then he is once more again deep in conversation with Petra.

Eren and Levi walk off in search of a table near the outskirts of the room. “Eren, you’re going to have to stand up a little straighter here,” the singer says as they weave through the crowds. Plenty strive to get his attention but Levi resolutely pays them no mind.

“I… I really shouldn’t be here,” mutters Eren, his head lowered and his voice feeble. “This isn’t the kind of place I belong, I-”

“Eren,” cuts in Levi as he sits down at a table with a red silk cloth over it. He holds Eren’s gaze firmly. “I meant what I said.”

Taken aback yet so full of sudden warmth, Eren tries to at least articulate his gratitude but he falls mute when a man with both greying hair and beard approaches the table. “Mr. Ackermann, a pleasure to see you tonight.”

Levi simply nods as he places his fedora on the table. “Eren, I’m sure you recognise Senator Zachley.” The words are almost dismissive of the Senator, as if his sole objective is the boy now that he knows how displaced Eren feels.

“Y-yes,” Eren nods quickly. “It’s an honour, Sir. I’m Eren Jaeger.”

“Mr. Jaeger,” the Senator nods. “It is always a delight to meet one of Mr. Ackermann’s friends. Allow me to introduce my wife,”

The conversation drones on until a blonde woman Eren recognises as Annie Leonhardt comes over for a few brief words, and then a trumpet player by the name of Marco Bott, and Frieda Reiss, an actress, a man and woman whose names are forgotten when they begin to pick at each other like husband and wife, and a businessman, Dino Reeves, with his son and heir Flegel, and- 

Eren loses track of all the names and faces that pass them by - not that he is much of a participant in the brief conversations. He introduces himself and receives a pleasantry in return then is promptly ignored in favour of Levi. That’s all any of them want: to say they got a moment’s conversation with the ever reclusive Mr. Ackermann; he isn’t prone to attending such events so in social currency there is nothing more coveted than to say one got a personal word with him. What is a waiter compared to the deity that is Levi Ackermann?

Not once does Levi ignore him. Not once does he overlook Eren. Every single time Levi is quick to bring attention to Eren and introduce him, to acknowledge his presence. It is a small gesture but one that has Eren’s chest warming with gratitude.

By the time they are joined by Hanji, Petra, and Erwin, Eren has met almost all the big names around. While he may not be nearly as bad as the singer, Eren does find himself start to tire of so many strangers constantly hoping for a word; he is more than happy to take a seat between Hanji and Petra and their familiar company. 

“Rumour has it lamb is the main dish of the evening,” Hanji gossips with her husband when Erwin lags behind to speak with some philanthropist.

“Good,” Levi mutters. He swishes his wine around in its frosted glass; he holds it by the stem, which Eren finds more amusing than he should - how funny it is to see Levi hold a cup properly for once and not by its rim like he is wont to do. “All these annoying idiots will leave me alone once dinner starts.”

“No one ever said you had to accept the invitation, my dear,” twitters Hanji, to which Levi only grumbles.

Erwin’s hearty laugh reverberates through the banquet hall as he sits between Petra and the singer. “No, but I at least am glad to see you’ve come out. I was afraid I’d have to make a house call to get this to you,” he says as he produces a black velvet box from an inner pocket within his jacket. He places it in Levi’s palm, his hand nearly double the size of the singer’s small and elegant fingers, “Happy birthday, old friend.”

“Not my birthday for a few more hours, Erwin,” Levi replies as he takes a gold watch from the box, removing the one he is wearing on his left wrist in favour of the new timepiece. He tucks both the box and old watch in his pocket.

“Oh, Levi! I didn’t know!” Petra gasps. She flags down a waiter to have champagne brought to them immediately. Levi scowls; clearly it is information he’s tried hard to keep private.

“I didn’t either,” mutters Eren as shame lumps in his throat. He thought they were getting close yet any decent friend would know his birthday, right? “I would have-”

“Don’t sweat it, kid,” Levi cuts in and pushes a flute of champagne to him. “People don’t know, that’s intentional. Christmas is a little more worthwhile.”

Eren can’t complain much when Levi hadn’t wanted anyone to know yet he still feels bad for not having prepared anything. He briefly considers cancelling his plans with Armin and Mikasa the next day, but then again he can’t leave his family alone on Christmas. He does, however, resolve to at least do some little thing for Levi to celebrate.

“You’re not performing tonight, are you?” Petra asks. To her credit, it may be obvious enough how interested she is in the singer yet she isn’t completely goo goo eyed and blushing. Perhaps she keeps her infatuation to herself, not out of fear of rejection, rather instead to keep from spoiling their friendship.

Levi shakes his head as he nurses his wine. “It’s my night off from these pretentious bastards. Best birthday present I could ask for right there.”

Conversation lulls when dinner is brought out: china plates piled high with braised potatoes, garlic and parmesan asparagus, sweet, buttery rolls, and lamb roasted so perfectly it falls apart in the mouth. While the others trade small talk, Eren is much too preoccupied with his food to even want to take part in the conversation. If he thought what they served at the cabaret was amazing then he must have died and gone to Heaven for this meal. A few times Petra even has to jokingly scold him, remind him they are still in public and he doesn’t have to put all his food in his mouth at once, and chewing  _ is  _ an important thing to actually do. He reddens and swallows the thick bite of roll he had taken. No one ever mistakenly accused Eren of having sophisticated table manners.

After entrées are cleared away little cakes no bigger than a coffee mug are brought out; there is a choice between a sticky toffee pudding cake or a black forest gateau - the latter is chosen by most of the table with the exception of Petra, who eagerly tucks into her toffee cake. Most everyone in the banquet hall has finished and chatter begins to echo through the room when the band starts to strum “God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen” as a warm-up. All except for Hanji, who gladly accepts Levi’s cake when he decides he isn’t a fan of the kirsch in it. 

Couples begin to take to the wooden dance floor when the music starts in earnest; the leader singers are the man and women whose names Eren hadn’t caught because of their bickering (Hanji supplies them for him though, the woman being Hitch Dreyse and the man Marlowe Freudenberg). A woman approaches them - Ilse Langnar, a freelance poet and daughter of a man who has quite a foothold in the airline industry - to ask Erwin for a dance. He accepts with his usual stately air and a pleasant smile and Ilse allows herself to be led to the throng. As he leaves Hanji turns her gaze to Levi. “Well, my darling husband,” she says with a puckish grin. “Shall we join all the other dancing love birds?”

Levi’s gaze flicks across the table to Eren before he nods and gets to his feet. “For propriety’s sake, I suppose. I’m not in much of a dancing mood though.”

“Only a couple,” Hanji assures him as Levi escorts her towards the back of the hall.

They leave and Eren is suddenly aware that it is just him and Petra now. “Uhh…” They may have agreed this is all just in good fun but he is still her date, he can’t exactly blow her off. But dancing… Well, it’s certainly not one of Eren’s talents. He finds his hands picking anxiously at his bloodied nails. Should he ask her? It would only be proper of him, wouldn’t it? He’s hardly a practiced dancer though - his experience is limited to a few evenings at home with Jean by the radio. It’s not like either of them were any good so a few stepped on toes were just ignored. God, what is Jean doing for Christmas? Does he even get some sort of break to celebrate the holiday? Is it right for Eren to even be thinking about him right now when he has a lovely woman to take care of for the evening? But he hasn’t even written to Jean, he doesn’t even know where Jean is. God, what an absolute bastard he is. A bastard who might soon be missing half a pinky nail if he keeps pulling at it. How can he just keep going through life like everything is fine? Jean is away, they haven’t spoken since he left, he has Petra to deal with, Levi is-

“Eren!” Petra puts a hand over his bleeding fingers. “You’re freaking yourself out. We don’t have to dance if you don’t want to.”

“But do you want to?” he asks quickly. He feels even antsier and more fretful now that his nervous habit has been stopped. Or maybe his nerves are just amplified because he doesn’t have the calm presence of Levi next to him anymore. “It’s just that I’m not really any good at dancing, and-and you’re a professional-”

“I’m lousy at partner dances,” she cuts in before she gives him a reassuring smile. “It doesn’t matter how good either of us is. We’re just here to have fun. Just relax and try to enjoy yourself. I don’t mind if you step on my toes,” Petra takes his hand as she stands. “So come on, just for fun.”

Her heels click against the wooden dance floor as she guides Eren’s hand to rest just above the small of her back. She sets hers on his shoulder before slowly guiding him through the foxtrot. She claims not to be any good but Eren thinks she’s wonderful, rising and falling with the music, swaying her hips, while he can barely get the proper steps down. Then again, she is a professional. “You’re doing great,” she grins but he hardly feels like he is - in all fairness to himself though it has been at least two refrains since he last stepped on her foot.

“Th-thanks,” he says sheepishly. “I’m amazed you do stuff like this every day; I don’t know that I’ll be able to do it even all night,”

She laughs high and light in a way that seems very much like the fashion of a famous movie star. “It definitely takes passion. It’s not for everyone.”

Now Eren has to focus on dancing and conversation? He isn’t good at one of them by itself, let alone both of them! “Uh, have you been doing it for a while then?”

“Oh, ages,” she hums, letting Eren lead her in a messy spin. “ Though I started later than some others do. I remember my aunt taking me to see a Shirley Temple film when I was about fifteen and when I got home I was furious!” she laughs. “I told my mom she should have gotten me started younger so it could have been me tapping away on the silver screen!”

“I think you would be a great film star.”

“That’s sweet of you to say,” Petra smiles as their dance ends with a curtsy and bow then Eren escorts her to their table. She doesn’t stay long before a tall, dark-haired gentleman asks her for a dance and she’s whisked off to the dance floor once more.

Eren sits alone at the table. As Levi predicted, most people seem to be drunk by now. Talk about high class society. It doesn’t feel like a gathering of sophisticated scholars and celebrities anymore, it’s just a bunch of smashed young adults. The ladies still twitter and giggle as they spy for a young man to pursue; meanwhile, men butt heads and boast and puff themselves up and act like general cretins. Eren may still feel a bit out of place yet the more he watches the more he realises this is just like any other party he’s been to - except everyone is spilling booze on much more expensive clothing.

A couple more songs pass; Eren assumes Petra has received more dance invitations as she doesn’t come join him at the table. Good for her, she deserves a night to enjoy herself. Eren doesn’t mind if it isn’t with him - no, she’s the type of person who belongs in a crowd while he is the one to stay on the fringes. Let her enjoy herself how she will.

His mind wanders as he sips his wine, first to the laundry that needs doing and if he’ll have time for it tomorrow among all the Christmas celebrations, to how tired he’ll be in the morning - both Armin and Mikasa are early risers after all; Eren is not. He finds himself thinking about dinner tomorrow and yule logs with eggnog, the fire crackling as the three of them just enjoy being together like they’ve always been, like they always should be… And Levi and Hanji? What do they do? Do they celebrate both Christmas and his birthday? Maybe just one or the other? And what kind of friend is Eren if he doesn’t do something to celebrate Levi’s birthday? But what can he really do on such short notice? Eren wipes a hand over his mouth as he considers his options with more than a few physical ones coming to mind. As lovely as most of them sound to him, he doubts Levi would want them. Sure, they’ve shared moments of intimacy such as their moment at the piano after shopping. But Levi is slow to show his inner heart to people and Eren is loathe to betray that trust he’s been given with an act of young folly. There is surely plenty of other things he can do.

His brow furrows, his racing mind screeching to a halt. How is he even thinking of such things? They may have built up a trust but that doesn’t have to be anything more than platonic. Something whispers at the back of Eren’s consciousness that he doesn’t want to be platonic. Since when? When did these creeping thoughts imbed themselves? He ought not to let them stay.

Waiters amble through the hall with trays of light finger food or drinks. Their uniforms are elegant in a reserved manner: fitted black slacks and a red waistcoat over a crisp white shirt; it’s the little accents that make it so refined, the polished wingtips, the gold tie tucked in their waistcoats, and the sprig of holly leaves pinned to their lapels. It’s even a higher class than the cabaret. Eren finds himself wondering about the application process; a higher wage along with all the tips these intoxicated luminaries hand out liberally, it hardly seems like a bad gig. He notices there aren’t many women serving, only a couple behind tables handing out sweets. That’s probably for the better, some of the more drunk men have been eyeing the few waitresses with lecherous glares. Eren wonders if this staffing decision is intentional. Then again, it isn’t like the women have kept their wandering hands off the waiters. Drunks, all around, are not very polite people.

“Ah, it’s been forever since we’ve gone dancing!” Hanji buzzes as she and her husband weave through the crowd back to the table; she grabs a couple of crackers topped with smoked salmon and dill cream cheese as a waiter passes. She looks the waiter over again, sinking into her seat. “My, he’s quite good looking, isn’t he?” She nudgers Levi. “And waiters are certainly your type.”

Levi gives a noncommittal grunt in response while Eren feels his cheeks and ears heating up at the implication. It’s almost as if Hanji knows the thoughts he’d had just before they showed up. Are they so obvious?

“Oh, Eren!” she twitters happily when she takes notice of him. “Already done dancing? No wonder you two get on so well, you’re both such wallflowers!”

Eren slips two fingers into his collar when it feels like it’s cutting into his neck, causing his breathing to come short and his lungs to constrict. “Well, I did have a dance with her; it lasted a couple of songs though because she had to teach me.”

“Really? Only one?” she asks and glances at Levi’s new watch. “It’s so late too, nearly midnight.”

Usually Eren enjoys talking with Hanji, usually she’s insightful and wise and quirky. Right now, he feels like he’s talking to an irritating and prying mother as she berates him. “Well, uh, it’s like you said, I’m not big on crowds,” he shrugs, trying not to meet Hanji’s unimpressed expression.

“You work at a cabaret, yet you don’t know how to dance?”

“I’m a waiter!” he protests, his own annoyance rising. “It’s not like I’m really there to have fun!”

“You don-”

_ “ Alright, _ _”_ Levi cuts in sharply, his cold gaze switching between them. “Leave the kid alone, Hanji. I know you’re drunk but that isn’t a good excuse to start fights.”

Drunk? Eren wouldn’t have guessed it. She looks so composed as always. Maybe her cheeks do seem a little flushed but otherwise, she looks perfectly normal to him. “You start fights all the time,” she retorts without so much as a slur. How the hell could she possibly be drunk?

“Alright, walk it off,” commands Levi as he pushes her out of her chair to her feet. “Go eat some more crackers, I don’t want you vomiting on me tonight.”

“It’ll give you something to clean,” Hanji mutters.

Levi gives her another small shove. “There’s the curator of the Museum of Natural History, go talk his ear off.” He clicks his tongue as she goes to speak with the elderly man. He doesn’t settle in his seat again, rather stands and grabs his coat off the back of his chair.

Eren watches her weave through the crowd. “Is she gonna be okay on her own?” 

“She’s drunk, not stupid.” The singer shrugs his coat on as he says, “I’m stepping outside, smells too much like booze in here.” The look he gives Eren makes it clear he’s open to accompaniment.

“I could use some fresh air,” Eren agrees. He tries not to sound overly eager but, truth be told, he’s been wanting to spend the evening with Levi more than anyone else. Petra is sweet, Erwin seems nice, and Hanji is always interesting to talk with, but it’s Levi that he feels most comfortable around; it’s with Levi when he feels he can be himself.

Eren follows him up two flights of stairs. When someone calls out for Mr. Ackerman, Levi simply waves his hand in acknowledgment with barely a glance. He is obviously getting tired of playing socialite. On the third floor they step out onto the snowy balcony. No one else is out there, of course not, all the other party goers inside and safely out of the cold flurries that dust Levi’s dark hair as he leans against the banister with a groan. “I don’t even know why people think I care,” he mutters as Eren comes to stand by him at the railing. “Be a fan, fine, but the second you try to worship the ground beneath my feet I am out. Spare me.”

Eren chuckles and gladly declines to mention the fanatical obsession he once had. “People can get pretty intense.”

“And these parties just drag  _ on, ”  _ he sighs.

“It is after midnight, people will be wanting to go home and celebrate Christmas with their families, right?”

“Possibly,” Levi nods. “More likely they’ll leave because they have to wake up early and go to mass for once.”

Eren cracks a smile. There’s definitely an influx of people at the chapel on Christmas and Easter. “I do wish you had told me your birthday is tomorrow - or today, I guess. I would have liked to do something for you.” 

The singer shrugs. “It’s just a birthday, it’s not that special; What’s one more year?”

“We can still celebrate it.”

“It’s Jesus’ birthday too, you know.”

Leaning his elbows on the railing as he meets Levi’s gaze, Eren says, “It’s special to me, okay? You’re my friend.”

Levi gives one of his scoffing laughs. “Well, when I die for the sins of the world, then we can have a party,” he replies dryly.

“Not every celebration has to be a party, you know,” Eren says with a faint smile. 

“Then what would you suggest?”

It’s not a loaded question, Levi doesn’t even take his eyes off the cityscape as he asks it, yet suddenly Eren finds his mouth dry as his pulse throbs in his ears. An answer rests on the tip of his tongue but it’s probably not one Levi wants to hear. Eren tries to be nonchalant as he shrugs. “It could be anything, even something little.”

“You didn’t really answer me.” This time Levi looks at him, this time Eren is sure his heart is skipping beats. When did he even start feeling like this? He’s always admired Levi but this… This is a little more than admiration. A lot more. His cheeks, raw and red from brisk wind, heat up the longer he stares at the singer. Have they been this close since they stepped out or has Eren unconsciously been sliding nearer the singer throughout the conversation? Their shoulders are just a hairsbreadth apart. “What would you suggest?”

“Well, uh,” Bashful as he is, Eren can’t seem to avert his gaze. In fact, he seems to be shuffling closer to Levi, unorthodoxly close. So close he can feel Levi’s warm breath on his face. “Well, maybe something like-” 

Self-control seems to be entirely forgotten when Eren brushes their mouths together - carefully, oh so very carefully. Snow keeps falling but he definitely isn’t cold now. What ever had been holding him back before - reason, logic - says “Fuck it.” If he finds his advances unwanted, he can just say he had been drunk. But for now, Eren will enjoy every second. He will cherish the thin chapped lips against his own in a touch softer than velvet rose petals, his hands cradling Levi’s cheeks. He’ll love every snowflake that lands on his closed eyes, every breeze that toussels his hair. Because Levi is  _ here _ , his gracefully thin fingers resting on Eren’s wrist. He will adore this sweet kiss shared out on a snowy balcony, a crowd inside the warm hall that should deter them, yet only serves to thrill Eren. Forbidden, illicit, taboo - none of that matters. Let society say whatever they want. Because  _ nothing _ will stop Eren from treasuring every last second of this moment.

His eyes flutter open as they part. When he meets Levi’s grey eyes his heart sinks and the bile of regret sours his tongue. What could he say to excuse himself? That hadn’t been warranted at all, it wasn’t right of him to-

Levi speaks first. “I don’t think I’d mind celebrating that way.”

And then, at his soft and almost yielding tone, all worries evaporate so quickly and Eren knows he has a goofy grin splitting his face and he knows Levi will call him a brat and he knows he probably does look like an over-excited puppy but he can’t possibly care right now, not when everything inside him feels so light and his body tingles with pure elation.

The corners of his eyes crinkle with threat of a smile but otherwise Levi remains impassive as he leans his elbows on the banister once more. Maybe things should feel awkward now, maybe Eren should be picking at his nails with anxiety. Yet as that initial euphoria slowly simmers down he is left with a deep content, a quiet satisfaction that leaves him feeling full within, makes him think he could live out the rest of his life on this balcony with Levi. 

“I assume you’re not staying the night?” the singers asks.

“No,” Eren shakes his head. “I’ve gotta get home. I’m spending Christmas with Mikasa and Armin.”

If the answer upsets Levi, he doesn’t show it. He just nods as he watches the clouds blow across the waning moon. “Can’t miss mass.”

Eren laughs a little as he rests his back against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. “I could do the opposite of everyone else: go every week  _ except  _ Easter and Christmas. Guess you have to, right? Almost a scandal when a big name like you doesn’t go to church.”

Levi huffs softly. “Please, after the busy ass weeks I have? I may not be God but I think it’s fair to say I need a day of rest too.”

That makes Eren blink and look down at him. “You don’t attend church?”

“I am a homosexual man. Believe it or not,” he replies in a dry, sardonic tone. “ I don’t like paying to be told I’m going to spend an eternity in Hell for what gets my dick up.” His eyes flick to Eren. “I’m surprised you do.”

The boy shrugs. “A habit I picked up from my mom, I guess.” He winces as soon as the words have left his mouth. Is it insensitive to talk about his mother when Levi didn’t know his own? But he’s mentioned her before and Levi’s been okay with it, hasn’t he? This whole function is just leagues over his head and leaves him spinning. Eren finds himself unsure of everything he knows. He just wants to get back to normal society where using the wrong fork isn’t even noticed.

Levi is entirely unaware of Eren’s antagonistic mind as he glances back over his shoulder into the hall. “Seems like the party’s dying down.” He checks his watch. “Sooner than I expected. Better go collect Hanji before she latches on to some professor’s leg and begs him to take her home. Not even in the fun way.”

Inside couples are collecting their coats, giggling women pull men to their cars to hurry up and get home for more scandalous activities, and waiters begin to tidy up the place while doing their best to stay out of the way. Erwin and Petra sit at a table that has already been cleared off, chatting aimlessly about their lives. When they approach, Eren’s nose and cheeks stinging from the sudden change in temperature, Erwin and Levi say their goodbyes. “You haven’t seen Hanji, have you?” Levi asks as he helps Petra with her coat, the woman’s cheeks lit up with a joyful blush. This poor, starstruck girl.

“Can’t say I-”

“Levi!” Hanji cries. Her intoxication is becoming a little more apparent as she weaves through the hall on a path that should have been straight. Behind her, she drags some poor man by the hand. She hiccups as she nearly falls onto her husband, the man with her quick to grab her shoulders and upright her.

“Mrs. Ackermann, please!”

“This is Mr. Moblit Berner! His archaeological finds will be displayed at the Museum of Natural History next month! And isn’t he just the cutest to boot?” She’s giggling now so much her face is a bright crimson and Eren worries that she might pass out soon if she doesn’t start breathing properly.

With a long-suffering sigh, Levi wraps his arm around Hanji’s waist. “And this is a prime example of why she doesn’t have alcohol.” His gaze turns to Moblit. “I appreciate you watching over my wife, Mr. Berner. I hope the rest of your evening is pleasant and your Christmas merry.”

“And the same to you, Sir. Oh!” Mr. Berner fumbles in one of his inner pockets before presenting a business card to Levi. “She seemed truly interested in the science behind my finds so here, in case she has any questions once she sobers up.”

“Leeevi,” Hanji drawls, leaning heavily on the short man. “Don’t be such a grouch. We don’t have to go home yet.”

“Say goodbye to the fine gentleman,” he sighs as he grabs her coat off the back of a chair.

Hanji’s wave is little more than just swishing around a floppy hand. “I’ll see you and the dinosaurs another time, cutie.”

Moblit’s bashful chuckle follows them as they head out into the snow. “Eren, thank you for tonight,” says Petra as the wait for the car to pull around.

Eren looks at her, brows knit together. Her thanks seem out of place to him - he doubts he was a good date. “I wasn’t really even with you most of the night…”

“That isn’t a bad thing; I enjoyed our dance a lot, so thank you.” Petra smiles as warmly as a comfy hearth. It makes Eren pity her. She really could find another suitor so easily with her personality. This poor sweet girl, she doesn’t deserve to have her heart broken the way it will be should she ever find out the truth about Levi.

“Well, thank you, too.”

The wind picks up; it bites at them even through their thick coats. The car is a welcome reprieve and they are quick to bundle inside it. Hanji falls asleep during the drive, her head in her husband’s lap; Levi absentmindedly pulls the pins from her hair and tucks them in his pocket. Petra, curled up in her seat, finally starts to look exhausted as all that dancing catches up to her, but she doesn’t sleep. When they get back to the apartment complex Levi is all but carrying Hanji to the elevator. Somewhere along the line she gets her feet back under herself and holds Levi’s sleeve as she stumbles along in a way that very much reminds Eren of a waddling toddler.

“Let me call you a cab,” the singer says to Petra once in the penthouse. Then he turns to Eren. “Can I trust you to get this drunk idiot to bed?”

Eren agrees to it, although Hanji does not. The image of a toddler is only strengthened by the way she whines and refuses to let go of Levi’s arm until he snaps at her. Then she sullenly drops her hands and allows Eren to lead her away while Levi phones a cab then goes with Petra to wait in the lobby.

Hanji’s room is exactly how Eren expects it to be: an absolute mess of books and papers and pens and diagrams strewn everywhere. The only thing that seems to be in its right place is the radio sitting on the bedside table. He gets her to bed with minimal fighting and is frankly amazed when he manages to get out of the room without tripping over anything.

He warms a glass of milk and sits at the table as he nurses it.  _ Did that really happen?  _ He finds himself wondering now that he’s alone. The brim of his cup rests against his lip as his mind reels. Not too long ago it was Levi’s mouth against his own, his slim fingers on Eren’s wrist as they… His ears are burning hot and bright red. He-he  _ kissed  _ Levi Ackerman. Once upon a time just shaking his hand was a fantasy and now Eren’s kissed him. And none of this would have happened if Jean hadn’t- hadn’t-

If Jean didn’t willingly send himself to death.

Eren sits in a comfortable, heated penthouse, sipping warm milk and musing over the evening he spent eating food more expensive than his rent. Meanwhile, Jean is probably in a trench somewhere, probably not even getting sleep and eating freeze-dried rations. Eren shouldn’t be here at all - it should be him out on the front lines with all his reckless determination and self-proclaimed hatred for cruelty, for treating people like livestock. Yet it’s him about to go sleep soundly on an actual mattress with down comforters to keep him warm and Jean the one out there not knowing which day could be his last.

The milk suddenly sits like lead balls in Eren’s stomach as he holds his head in his hands. His throat feels tight, his tongue heavy in his mouth, and a vague nausea washes over him. What a poor excuse of a man he is - nothing but a piece of shit really. Suddenly the fatigue he feels isn’t from the party; the abrupt shift in mood exhausts him to the point that he doesn’t know how he’ll be able to walk home tonight. His emotions feel like a yoyo: going down just as quickly as they come up.

“I called you a cab as well; it’s waiting downstairs.”

Eren picks his head up quickly. Leaning his shoulder against the wall, Levi studies him. All thoughts of Jean are gone in a puff of smoke as Eren now wonders how exactly he is supposed to take his leave tonight. Really, if anyone else could hear his thoughts they’d get whiplash from how quickly they change. “Thanks,” he says as he gets to his feet. He rinses out his glass and puts it away. He’s more than aware of Levi’s eyes following him. Does he expect another kiss? Or would that be presuming too much? Eren shrugs on his coat. But just a simple “Goodbye” seems like far too little.

“Eren,” Dear Lord, he doesn’t know what to expect at all. And he definitely doesn’t expect the warm half smile Levi gives him that makes his whole body alight. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, Levi.” Why had he been so worried when all these words come so easily? And such a  _ normal  _ conversation. Nothing had changed. “And thank you for inviting me.”

The singer nods. “Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas to you, too. And happy birthday.”

“Thanks. Eren,” he adds as he works a finger into the knot of his tie and pulls it loose. “Enjoy your time with your family tomorrow. And… Maybe if you come by day after, I’ll let you talk me into some cake.”

A small smile tugs at Eren’s lips as his heart flits gleefully in his chest, his hand resting on the doorknob. “I promise it’ll be a good cake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From here on, there will be a small hiatus while I finish the rest of the chapters so I can post them regularly. Thank you for reading so far and I hope you'll be back when I return!


	7. Too Marvellous for Words

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had originally planned on ending my hiatus once I finished the whole story and post a chapter a week but work and school have kept me preoccupied so that plan is gone and I'll just be posting as I finish chapters.

_ “Sweet summer breeze, whispering trees _

_ Stars shining softly above _

_ Roses in bloom, wafted perfume _

_ Sleepy birds dreaming of love.” _

As the evening winds down the songs gradually become more soft, whimsical almost as loud trumpets and saxophones are traded out for flutes and flowing  _ adagio  _ melodies. Swings become lullabies for ladies and gentlemen to hum to themselves on their way home to bed for sweet dreams of gently singing violins and those ever memorable eyes of Mr. Levi Ackermann.

While the patrons are soothed with sweetly sung berceuses, the staff work tirelessly to get the kitchen tidied up and stocked in preparation for next weekend. Some nights it seems like they can get nothing done and they have to stay over two hours past closing to clean the place. Tonight, busy though it had been, they seem to be ahead of the curve - everything that can be cleaned and taken care of without bothering the customers had already been done; all that is left is to wipe, sweep, and mop both the dining room and restrooms. Not bad work for the evening, and it definitely means they can slack off a little until closing.

Eren sits at the single seat table tucked away from the rest as folds silverware sets; busy work Rico assures him is entirely necessary. If he leans back just so, he can watch Levi sway to the soft music as he croons. Eren’s heart flutters. As much as he’s always loved Levi’s work, the music has never affected him this much; lately, it’s been feeling like the best liquor he’s ever had, one that sits warmly in his belly and makes his face flush and his heart giddy - he can’t get enough of it.

_ “Safe in your arms, far from alarms _

_ Daylight shall come but in vain _

_ Tenderly press close to my breast _

_ Kiss me, kiss me again.” _

There hasn’t been some dramatic shift in Levi’s style - he’s always crooned sweet nothings befitting of a smitten lover. But somewhere along the line, all the lyrics started to feel like they were written and meant for only one person - Eren. He may sing them sweetly on stage in front of an audience but the message is only for a single man.

Eren’s cheeks and ears heat up. He shouldn’t be obsessing this much, reading into it all this much; yet the fact is he hasn’t stopped thinking about that kiss early, early Christmas morning. All day he was overly jubilant and merry, more than willing to go along with every tradition and game planned for the day, despite the meager amount of sleep he got. Even when Armin tripped and spilled eggnog on his favourite sweater Eren couldn’t find it in himself to be even a little upset. Because that morning he shared a kiss with a man he admired above all others.

God, what a mess he is.

He knows he has a tendency of letting his passions consume him - whether they be a love for his family or the tingling embarrassment of a crush - yet even this might be far for even him. His thoughts just continually wander back to that kiss no matter what he’s doing - stocking shelves, strolling down the sidewalk, taking orders; if he stops focusing even for a moment then his imagination goes back to that morning, just after midnight. Eren longs to live in that moment forever yet at the same time he doesn’t want to think about it, doesn’t want to tarnish the memory with little things his brain might try to add.

Such an utter mess.

Mr. Ackermann ends the night with another new composition,  _ Let’s Start the New Year Right _ , then he exits the stage with applause following him. The dreary, yawning crowd is slow to gather their coats and purses and head out. Once all patrons have left the staff sets to work on the dining room. Many hands make for light work.

In no time Eren is stepping out the back door to fetch his bicycle, and there, leaning back against the wall, stands Levi, huddled up in his trench coat and the brim of his fedora pulled low over his eyes. “Le-Mr. Ackermann!” Eren exclaims; they are in public, he has to remember to keep it formal. “That was a wonderful show tonight.”

Levi’s eyes dart to either side before meeting Eren’s. “Last I checked, Eren, we’re the only two here.”

There’s something in those words that make Eren’s heart trip up. The only two - as if that’s what Levi wants, as if he craves the intimacy of their being alone. “Well,” Eren wets his lips. Definitely a mess. “It really  _ was  _ a good show; I liked the song you finished with.”

“Thanks. Coulda been better; I’m a little buzzed.”

“Really?” Eren laughs. He wouldn’t have guessed.

“I had dinner with the manager of the recording studio and he invited that jackass, Nile. Talented guy but an annoying bastard.” Levi shakes his head and pushes off the wall and digs his hands deep into his pockets. “Hanji always makes a fuss out of New Year’s; I’m sure she’d be happy if you came by.”

_ I’d be happy if you came by.  _ Eren might only be imagining it but he likes to believe those words were implied. He smiles as he unchains his bike. “I’d hate to let her down. Tell her to set the table for one more.”

Levi nods. “Pay attention where you’re going,” he says over his shoulder as Eren swings his leg over the bicycle, as if he knows how preoccupied Eren has been with his thoughts. He can hope Levi’s been the same way since that morning. “Don’t get your dumb ass killed.”

* * *

  
  


“Good afternoon, Mr. Hannes!” Eren calls over his shoulder.

“Have a good New Year, kid!” the shopkeeper, Mr. Hannes, smiles.

Eren ducks out of the corner store, leaning his head to either side to pop his neck. Mr. Hannes sometimes comes off as a good-for-nothing alcoholic, and far too cavalier about situations, but he’s always dealt with Eren fairly. Having been a friend of his father’s, Hannes has been part of Eren’s life for as long as he could remember - way back when he was just a little ankle-biter exploring the huge world with Mikasa and Armin. When his mother passed, Hannes was quick to take Eren under his wing and give him a job as soon as he could. 

While the cabaret - with its higher class clientele - pays more, Eren feels a greater sense of kindred during his shifts at the corner store; he knows all the regulars and their families. There’s Reiner who always stops by on Wednesday to pick up milk - he works at a bakery that seems to never order quite enough to get them through the week to their next shipment - and if not him then his coworker Bertholdt. Ymir and Historia come a couple of times a week for groceries; they’re an odd pair, Ymir brash and loudmouthed while Historia, while blunt, tends to be more mild, giving off a maternal air. Historia claims them to be “cousins” but… Well, Eren lives the lifestyle himself, he thinks he’d be able to pick out a couple of hiding lovers. Armin drops by on the occasion as well, and if he doesn’t Eren will bring groceries back to his apartment for him - part of his way of thanking Armin for still letting Eren crash at his apartment (really he ought to just be paying rent now). Then there are Hannes’ drinking buddies who come for booze more than a few times a week - at least they have good stories for Eren to listen to while he fetches their favourite bottles.

All in all, Eren loves his job there, spent around close friends and quirky boozehounds. That said, it’s still nice to know he doesn’t have another shift until after the New Year, in January. To counterbalance that, work at the cabaret is picking up with performances usually only held on the weekends bleeding out to Thursdays or Mondays at the higher demand for tickets during the holidays.

Eren groans as he pulls the key to Armin’s apartment from his pocket. The cabaret may pay more but it also demands more from him; a shift almost always leaves him dead tired. He unlocks the door and tucks the key back in his pocket as he enters the small flat. Armin and Mikasa turn in their chairs to face him. They may both be holding steaming mugs, Armin wrapped up in one of his many blankets like always, but nothing about their body language is good; both look tense and unsettled. The air in the room is thick, heavy, suffocating. The door swings shut behind Eren as he toes off his shoes and fights the urge to leave. He may not know why it feels so dour but he does know it can’t be a symptom of anything good.

“Hey, guys,” he says slowly as he hangs up his coat. The grim atmosphere brings to mind a memory from years ago when he was told his mother had passed. The room had felt oppressive, trapping then, just as it does now. Instinct demands he flee now. Before anything could be said. Before his world could shatter as it had back then.

He stays planted where he is even when Mikasa gestures for him to come sit.

“I didn’t know you planned on spending New Years with us.” Eren tries to come off casual as he addresses Mikasa but even he knows how unnatural his stance looks, how forced his words sound, how scripted his movements are as he goes to the small kitchenette for a drink. He had been planning to finish off the eggnog when he got back - Armin hardly drank more than one glass of it so there was sure to be plenty left; now he feels too nauseous for it. He settles with water to rinse the rising bile from his throat.

“I hadn’t,” Mikasa agrees. Eren can feel her dark gaze on his back as he fills his cup at the sink. “Until recently when I was thinking that I haven't seen you in a while; Christmas was the first time in months. We usually spend more time together.”

Eren can already feel the hole opening up beneath his feet, waiting to swallow him.

“And when she mentioned that to me,” Armin continues. He doesn’t seem to have the willpower to meet Eren’s eyes. “I told her that was ridiculous because for weeks now you’ve been telling me you’re spending your weekends at her house.”

Eren knows where this is going. He wants to flee now more than ever.

“So where have you been, Eren?” hoarsely whispers Mikasa

“I can-” The words die in his dry mouth. He can’t explain, not at all; he can only stand here, feeling overexposed as this inky hole begins to swallow him. Because the truth is not an option - this is his secret to hold hid away in his heart, to keep for himself - he can only drown as his lies catch up to him.

“If someone’s hurting you, Eren-!”

How like Mikasa to jump right into protective mode.

“No, no, it’s nothing like that,” he says quickly. The exact opposite. 

“Eren,” Armin’s gaze finally lifts and he puts a hand on his friend’s arm. “Please. Don’t shut us out. Whatever it is, we’re here to help you.”

...But what does he gain from clinging to his lies? These are his  _ friends _ and he is making them unduly worry. Who is benefitting from this? He does have to consider the reaction should people find out Levi’s sexuality - but, really, who would Armin and Mikasa tell? And watching them trip over themselves with concern breaks Eren’s heart. As much as he wants to protect Levi, he is not the only person Eren holds dear. And he can’t watch his two closest friends worry so unnecessarily. If he weren’t holding a glass, anxiety would have already made him start gnawing at his nails.

“Eren, we want to help,” implores Mikasa when the silence drags on. “Please let us help.”

He swallows hard around the lump in his throat. The more he thinks about it, the harder it will be to say. He stands here, silent, any longer and the words will dry up on his tongue. “I’m- I’ve been-”

Armin brushes his hand. “You don’t have to hide anything from us.”

That gives him a small boost of confidence but Eren still finds he has to screw his eyes shut as he blurts out, “I’ve been seeing someone, okay?”

And the room goes silent. Eren can hear his own heavy breathing, his heart thumping against his ribcage. The fire crackling in the hearth is deafening. Has Eren ever felt so weighed down by air alone? Now that he’s said it, his friends’ eyes fixed on him firmly, there is nowhere for him to go. “That’s what- That is where I’ve been going on the weekends. I go to see him.”

Thank God Armin is so much better at the social game than either Mikasa or Eren. He takes his mug of hot chocolate from the side table - it was steaming when Eren came in, must be at least lukewarm now - and takes a slow drink. He looks at Eren after he swallows. “So soon after Jean?”

Somehow that’s the nicest and cruelest thing Armin could say.

Amazing how similar anxiety and guilt are. Their symptoms are nearly the same - weight in the bottom of the stomach, shaking, tears so close to coming out it’s frustrating, and an inability to think of anything else. Eren would so much rather be anxious again. He knows how to deal with anxiety and is at least assured anxiety will come to an end. This guilt might weigh his heart down for the rest of his life. 

“It’s only been-”

“Five months, I know.” Eren’s voice scrapes in his throat. He swallows around a lump. “I know. I’ve counted every day. Two and a half years of a relationship entirely forgotten in five months… I met him at the airport, Armin. The airport when I was seeing Jean off.” His voice gets rough, grating as tears come to his eyes. “Do you know the last thing I said to Jean? I called him selfish. Because he didn’t want to stay and be with me. For being able to give up his life, I called him selfish. Damn it,” he whispers, rubbing at his eyes when those tears finally spill over his cheeks. “And as soon as he was gone, I had my eye on another man. I went from man to man without a fucking problem. Like some low rate fucking hooker. I barely waited two weeks before I was spending the night at his house. I’m the damn slut everyone knows and judges. Yet I keep seeing him. And then I feel awful about it as soon as I leave him. My boyfriend went off to the army to serve in the name of freedom and I found someone new without another thought. Talk about pathetic.”

As he digs his knuckles into his watering eyes, Mikasa stands and pulls him into an embrace. He vaguely notes he’s gotten taller than her when she tucks her head beneath his chin. “You made different choices in life. That’s okay. And it’s okay to move on.”

If only that helped.

“You didn’t have to keep it from us, Eren,” she adds. “We’re your friends. Even if you are being a slut, we’ll still help you be the best slut you can be.”

“That might have come out wrong,” Armin laughs. “We know what you mean. And she’s right. If we stuck with you through that obnoxious honeymoon period you and Jean had, I think we’ll be stuck with you for life.”

“Sorry, guys,” he sighs as he rubs his eyes one last time with the sleeve of his shirt. “Guess this has just been building up for a while.”

“You always have us,” assures Armin.

“I know, I know. I shouldn’t take you guys for granted.” Eren finally plops on the couch and sighs, allowing the tension to flow from his body. It’s out there now after all. “It’s frustrating. At the cabaret, the girls are always talking about the great dates they were taken on and how their boyfriend bought them jewelry that goes perfectly with their favourite dress, and the guys talk about how pretty that woman who just came in is, how they’re going to take their girl dancing on the next Sunday they have off, even those scumbag men talk about which women they’re banging and abandoning the next morning. It kinda sucks to be the only one who can’t genuinely be a part of it, you know?” 

Of course, Mikasa and Armin don’t know. Neither of them is considered “deviant” by society, they’re both straight. They sympathize with him, which Eren appreciates by all means, but the thing about being with Jean meant they both had some experience in the matter and could complain together. It isn’t even the discrimination that Eren finds irksome but the fact that it’s a big deal. He knows people who openly call it a depraved scandal - on the other side of that he knows plenty that share his sexuality and try to act like it makes them superior. For Eren, he just wants it to stop being a big fucking deal for both sides. People are gonna be how they are. Long as they’re not bugging each other, why should it be a problem?

“It’s just fucking dumb,” he finally concludes. “And the fact that I could lose my job for it. Hell,  _ he _ could lose his job for it and he’s the most talented guy I know! Why the hell should what we do in the bedroom make him lose everything he’s worked for?”

After Eren finishes his little huff, the grin on Armin’s face becomes apparent. And it is rarely a sign of anything good. “Bedroom, huh?” he hums in a sly tone. “So does that mean you two have slept together?”

“Armin!” scolds Mikasa.

Eren waves her off as he downs the rest of his water. “Nah. Truth is… Well, I didn’t even really realise I was into him until recently. We’ve spent tons of time together, yeah, but it was all just platonic, to tell you the truth. Then, I don’t know, kinda just smacked me in the face that the feelings I had for him weren’t platonic. We- we kissed,” The tips of Eren’s ears heat up at the memory. Not like he’s going to be a blushing mess in front of his friends. Even if just talking about it makes his insides wriggle happily. Be suave. “I’ve seen him a couple of times since then, too. But nothing more has really happened.”

“Nothing?”

“Well, okay, we’ve talked. And he keeps inviting me over so I assume I didn’t cross a line. But… Yeah, otherwise, nothing.” He shrugs. He really hadn’t thought much of it, considering how reserved Levi is. 

That’s not entirely true, it has bothered Eren a little, but it hasn’t been that long since Christmas. He figures if something doesn’t happen soon then he’ll bring it up.

“You still haven’t told us his name,” calls Mikasa from the kitchen. He hears dishes clatter around before she comes back with a bowl of ice cream. Armin shivers just from looking at it. Everything makes the poor guy cold. Eren, on the other hand, has never once seen Mikasa so much as shiver.

“No name.”

Mikasa scoffs at the answer. “Come on, Eren, don’t pull us around anymore. What’s his name?”

He grins at her. While he trusts his friends implicitly, this isn’t his secret alone. It’s one thing to say he’s dating, another to say  _ who _ . Levi hasn’t consented to having his identity given out. Maybe he’ll bring Levi to meet them some time, that way he has a say in the matter. “Come on, we’ve been talking about me for ages. Let’s hear about you; what have you been up to?” he deflects. It is tiresome to only talk about himself.

Armin whines but relents to the topic change as Mikasa starts going on about the new job she has upstate with a watch factory.

Even if the topic isn’t brought up again that evening, Eren knows they’re both dying to ask until he answers. He doesn’t mind though. Because he won’t tell them no matter how much they beg. 

Eren will let them squirm just a little bit longer.


	8. You've got a Hold on me

Some freed feeling came from his friends knowing where Eren was spending his weekends; no longer were lies spilling readily out of his mouth whenever they asked - falsehoods, he told himself, that were completely justified, it isn’t like it is his fault his sexuality faces so much stigma. Not that he had liked lying to his loved ones, though he did hate how easy it became for him to do so.

And now they know, now it is open to the air - well, to an extent. Eren feels worlds better for it; it feels easier to stand now; he hadn’t even realised how all this deceit had coalesced into a lead lump that sat heavily in his heart - no, not until the weight was gone did he realise it was dragging him down. He even feels a little less guilty about Jean after the fact. Now, with the absences of such horrid feelings, he wonders why he didn’t talk to them in the first place.

When asked about his New Year plans, Eren was glad for the sudden candidness he was allowed. Though Mikasa seemed uneasy about Eren constantly being with a man she didn’t know - she had only barely approved of Jean, a friend since high school, after all - she said nothing to the contrary. Armin had grinned and begun lecturing his friend on what a bad houseguest his secrecy had made him, not even bringing wine to his host. Eren didn’t know anyone could rant about courtesy and refinement for so long.

Which is why Eren now carries a tin of shortbread cookies as he heads through the lobby with a wave to the doorman. He taps his toes impatiently as the elevator door closes, a small bell dinging with every floor he rises. His stomach turns uncomfortably, his palms sweaty around the aluminum tin - the tin in both hands the reason he hasn’t picked all the skin from his fingertips. This isn’t the normal anxiety Eren’s used to, the kind that is easier to turn into rage and act blindly. This fills him with trepidation; he feels as if he holds a china vase between two oiled hands - one small movement and he’ll lose his grip; the vase will shatter, never to be the same as it was before. He wouldn’t have ever used  _ delicate  _ _t_o describe Levi until now, until this fragile trust was given to Eren - this oh-so-delicate amour that Eren feels a pulling  _ need  _ to cherish. 

Something about this nervousness causes the elevator ride to drag on for ages yet to also be over in a moment. About a month ago, Hanji insisted on giving Eren a key to the penthouse; this is the first time Eren has been reluctant to use it.

Yet inside everything is as it’s always been: granite countertops in the kitchen covered with dishes as Hanji works on supper, a man on the radio chattering away in the background. The couple banter over the man’s dialogue. “I’m just saying,” Hanji hums to Levi, who is on his hands and knees as he scrubs the dining room floor. “If it were up to you, you’d cure the world with marble and clay.”

Pulling the cloth over his mouth down, Levi drops the brush in a bucket of soapy water as he turns to his wife. “You’re not listening - as always..”

“You’re only saying this because they’re knocking down that building you like,” she responds in a breezy tone as she sets a casserole in the oven.

“Life is more than war and survival. To ignore art would be like ignoring science-”

“Now that’s hardly true! Science saves lives! Art does what exactly?”

_ “ Listen _ _,”_ Levi admonishes. “The Greeks and Romans and Egyptians were known for more than just their science. You don’t find a hall of the Kipsigis in every museum, do you? Art is important to a civilization.”

Eren has been in their home with them many times yet he can’t think of them ever arguing like this. Still, there is an air of civility to it, as if their anger would never be directed at each other but rather at the ideas they debate. Fake as their marriage may be, they have some sound relationship advice for newlyweds

Hanji fills a pan in the sink and sets it aside to let it soak. “You know what else is important to a civilization? Life-saving medicines.”

“No one is denying that but there’s a difference between survival and living. Art tends to bridge that gap. And, need I remind you, we’re still finding cave drawings from the Neanderthals; not a whole lot of science, though. Art is important to history. Or does your science not allow for that?”

“Levi!” she huffs, hands on her hips. “You’re changing the subject! Obviously history is important but a bunch of marble statues isn’t what made Greece powerful.”

“Maybe not, but clever and talented people still liked to flock there, didn’t they? And Greece welcomed their ‘useless artists,’” he counters as he slides the bucket over and returns to scrubbing the dark flooring.

“Honestly, you think you’d- Eren!” Hanji gasps. She only finally takes note of him when he sets the tin of cookies on the counter. “Oh, goodness! I didn’t even see you come in!”

“I let myself in…” Eren trails off awkwardly. He’s done it before yet it feels so wrong this time.

Hanji grabs a dishtowel and wipes off her hands. “Please, come in, don’t linger at the door like a stranger.”

Stepping further into the kitchen, his eyes go to Levi. It’s odd not to see him dressed to the nines, instead in an old shirt and loose trousers, a cloth tied around his hair to keep wayward strands out of his face as he works. One of Eren’s favourite parts of working, both at the cabaret and the corner shop, is when he finally lays down for the night, showered and pleasantly exhausted so sleep comes quickly. That feeling of being clean after working hard, his hair still damp as he snuggles into his blankets, fills his chest with a warm sort of pride and satiety from knowing he worked hard. Levi makes Eren feel something similar - a delight in life that infuses him down to the core. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you two argue before,” he remarks. Removing his eyes from Levi is a conscious effort but if he keeps staring Hanji might think something is up - assuming Levi hasn’t told her about what happened on his birthday.

“Oh, lively, civil debates keep things interesting. Forever is a long time to make small talk after all. The trick is keeping them polite.”

“Yeah,” Levi agrees as he rings out his rag. His knees crack as he rises to his feet, dumping the bucket in his hands out in the sink then rinsing down the residue of dirty water. “She might be a dumb ass but she’s an intelligent dumb ass.”

Hanji barks out a laugh - it’s always sounded slightly crazed to Eren - as she passes the younger a set of plates with forks and knives on top of them. “And that’s as romantic as he ever gets. You’re a waiter, you ought to know about table placement, right? Set those out for me, would you, darling?”

“Of course.” Eren willingly accepts the plates. They’re heavy, made of a dense glass, but waiting tables means Eren is more than used to the weight. Thankfully, too, it would have been embarrassing to drop them. He goes to lay them on the table but Levi sticks out an arm and stops him. 

“I know you’re not about to track dirt on my freshly cleaned floor.”

Eren looks down at his shoes. “Oh!” Usually he kicks them off by the door but seems he had forgotten to due to watching the couple’s debate. Careful not to drop any of the silverware, he works each shoe off and kicks them towards the entrance hall before he returns to the task at hand, the just-scrubbed floor dampening his socks and his insides twists uncomfortably in response. Wet socks are the absolute worst.

As Hanji and Eren bring all the various dishes to the table (“Hanji, there’s only three of us!”), Levi slinks to his room. When he returns in a jet black suit and his hair slicked away from his face, Hanji gives a whistle. “Now, aren’t you just the bee’s knees? Wait, you have time to have dinner with us, don’t you? I thought I timed it all perfectly.”

“Quit fussing, even if I didn’t have the time I would still stay for supper.”

They all take a seat and Hanji offers grace, a rather sweet prayer too, then fill their plates. “You’re going out tonight?” Eren asks as his companions dig in - Hanji with the gusto of a man unsure of their next meal while Levi is far more methodical about it, pushing aside his sautéed shrimp, his favourite, for last before tucking into his green beans. Eren is the only who doesn’t start eating, mostly reluctant to show off his absolutely horrendous table manners. Sure, Levi has seen him eat before, but somehow Eren thinks if he reminds the cleanly singer how messy he is then Levi might not take whatever this is between them any further.

“For a couple hours, got a show. I plan on being back as soon as possible.” Levi swirls his wine within its glass as he talks, careful to keep it from sloshing over the edge. “I hate the holidays. All these damn parties.”

“Yes, yes, we get it: you’re a brooding social outcast who hate parties and would much rather be cleaning while making toilet jokes,” Hanji teases. “But you really must get some sort of social interaction now and again.”

Levi looks like he is very willfully declining to mention how she tends to coop herself up in the library as he retorts, “I talk to you two nearly every day, don’t I? And if that weren’t enough I’m at the recording studio a few times a week as well.”

“You really are so unapproachable. How someone as asocial as you has such a good public image is beyond me.”

“We’re dining with a guest, so clearly I’m not that unapproachable.”

Eren puts his hands up quickly when Levi’s grey gaze flickers to him. “Hey, don’t drag me into this. You ran into me in that bathroom,” he laughs. Watering down the story it’s almost unrecognisable, sure, but Eren isn’t going to ruin the lighthearted atmosphere.

“See? One of your closest friends and it didn’t even happen on purpose. You couldn’t make another pal if you wanted to.” Hanji waves her knife around carelessly as she berates him until Levi, watchful of where she’s swinging it, withdraws the knife from her hand (Eren doesn’t mention the offhanded “closest friend” comment, he keeps that for himself to cherish).

“You clearly can’t have that.” The singer sets the stolen knife next to his own. “And if you’re trying to bait me into some sort of game, it isn’t going to work.”

“Because you know you’ll lose.”

At Hanji’s singsong taunt, Eren can minutely see the lines between Levi’s eyebrows crease deeper along with his scowl. Clearly her baiting is having some effect. “Go gamble with Erwin.”

“Are you just so sure you won’t be able to make a friend that you’ll just send me off without even trying?”

“I’m sure that I don’t want to fucking socialise tonight,” he says as he stands and clears his dishes, along with Hanji’s revoked knife. After dropping them off in the sink, Levi steps into his room and fetches his suit jacket along with a heavy pea coat. “Besides, why do I need to try to make friends when there’s annoying ass people like you out there who will hang around me no matter what I say?”

Hanji huffs at Levi, though he ignores it as he tugs his jacket on. Let no one ever tell you there’s no such thing as well dressed men, because after taking in the singer in his black suit Eren decides that every other evening gown and tuxedo are a waste. Levi will put them all to shame without a doubt.

And while Eren is completely aware that he tends to act without thinking, when he realises he’s gotten up to straighten Levi’s tie and smooth it down his chest, Eren is quick to pull his hands away while thinking himself a complete moron. “Sorry, that- it was crooked.”

Levi glances down at the tie around his neck and nods. Either he really thinks Eren was just very kindly and platonically trying to fix his tie or he’s simply much better at recovering from awkward situations. “Thanks.”

Leaving Eren to fight down his embarrassed blush, Levi fetches his a scarf and fedora. “I shouldn’t be gone long. I don’t plan on staying for the actual party. Shouldn’t be home later than one.”

Hanji nods. Though Levi looks at her and she responds, Eren has the curious feeling that the words aren’t necessarily meant for her. “Try to enjoy yourself at least a little?”

Levi staunchly ignores the plea. “I have my key; there’s no need to wait up for me.

“I expect to hear all about the friends you make tonight!” Hanji calls as Levi heads out with a click of his tongue. She sits back in her chair with a soft chuckle and finishes her glass of cider. 

“Ah, ever the same he is,” she muses to herself after she sets her empty glass down. Then she casts a glance at Eren’s entirely full plate. “You really shouldn’t be nervous around him; it isn’t like anything has changed.”

Eren blinks. Maybe Levi did tell her about what happened that night. Then again, Hanji is too clever for her own good and Eren hasn’t really been a master of subtlety tonight. He thinks he almost liked it better when he hadn’t acknowledged his own feelings, then he wasn’t concerned about how he came off with his poor manners and impetuous temper. Back then he just enjoyed Levi’s company without worry. Now he feels as if he’s in grade school once again, gossiping and passing notes to crushes all while simultaneously hoping not to get caught. Eren isn’t a fan of the feeling.

His stomach growls and he is quick to tuck into the evening’s feast. He really ought to stop overthinking all the time.

“Atta boy,” Hanji titters. She fetches a bottle of wine to refill both their glasses and takes a long sip. Then she assumes a comfortable position that Eren knows well as her “chatting position.” Maybe he really is in grade school again. “Have I told you how we met, Levi and I?”

That’s gossip that gets Eren’s attention. He sets his fork down and fixes his gaze on the woman. “No,”

She beams, a mischievous gleam in her eye. “Oh, it must have been ages ago by now! See, I got this part-time job at a recording studio, mostly just cleaning up at the end of the day but when they had a busy schedule they’d pay me to serve refreshments. It was a good job, good pay, and I met loads of interesting people while I was there. It’s where I met Erwin, actually.

“I must have worked there, oh, say, three months and then one day while I was serving drinks they brought in this man who looked like he could kill you and not feel a bit of remorse. Truth be told, that’s the only time I’ve been scared of a man. I just kept praying they wouldn’t leave me alone with him.” Then Hanji laughs as she takes another sip. “To this day I find it hilarious though. His clothes might have been a mess of tears and tatters that looked like they’d fall apart if he moved too fast but his personal hygiene was immaculate. That, of course, was Levi.

“Now he had Erwin to vouch for him and despite Erwin’s gambling mindset, the top brass always trusted him to make good judgment calls. So they got everything set up in the recording booth; now it took a while to coax Levi into it, the stubborn ass that he is, but he got through one verse and everyone was already calling him ‘Nightingale.’ Appearance be damned, he was signed on that day.

“Not that he and I met then. No, we officially spoke to one another three weeks later. He invited me out for lunch. It was right after his first album had been put out,” she laughs again. “He used the money to get some new clothes, of course. Still looked like he could murder you if you said something wrong to him. So obviously I was a bit hesitant but I accepted because I was more scared of what would happen if I said no.”

“Did something happen?” Eren asks. He goes to take another bite but stops when his mouth only meets the cool metal of his fork. He had been listening so closely that he didn’t realise he’d finished his supper. 

“Nothing like I thought. You’ve met Levi; he may be rude but he’s a gentleman. It was an entirely delightful afternoon. He let me talk all I wanted but he asked questions here and there, even if he wasn’t at all interested in the jargon I rambled on about. He was perfectly pleasant the whole time. Well, Levi’s version of pleasant. Some people still find him crass but I don’t mind,” she says with a faint smile. “Once I realised that killing glare of his was just a permanent scowl etched on his face as his normal expression I was more than happy to make his acquaintance. Levi, though, was more reluctant,” she laughed out.

Eren watches her get up and rinse her now empty glass. “Is that all?”

Hanji throws him an amused smile. “And at the end of all this, he gave me my wallet back.”

Eren chokes on a throaty laugh, somewhere between humour and disbelief. “He stole your wallet?”

“Mhm,” she nods. “Apparently he was afraid they were going to drop him so he stole a lot of things on his way out as a failsafe. Then he got a cheque and decided to return them.” She dries the glass and sets it in the cabinet as she laughs. “Must have been a disappointment if money was what he was after! I was so broke, I think the only thing I had in my wallet was a library card!”

“Wow,”

“Apparently he noticed it too because he then told me and my ‘shitty glasses’ off for not taking better care of myself and he wasn’t going to buy me lunch every time I forgot to eat and I had to start putting money aside for meals instead of using it all on research and that, for the love of _God_, if I was going to hang around him I had to at least bathe more regularly.”

Eren smiles against the brim of his glass. That certainly sounds like Levi.

“Honestly, I thought he was just one of those men that are, um… More aggressive when flirting. Mother always told me not to bother with men like that. Except as we were leaving I saw him very much eyeing a waiter’s ass. It wasn’t too hard to deduce his tastes from there.  And thus started a glorious friendship!” 

“Can’t say I’m really surprised to hear it,” he comments. He stands to wash his plate but Hanji takes it from him, saying she’ll happily take care of dishes for the evening. “It isn’t hard to imagine him doing something like that. Definitely a unique story.”

“Wonderfully so,” agrees Hanji. She turns on the radio as she fills the sink and the last Christmas carols of the year echo through the tinny speakers. Though Eren tries to offer his help again she shoos him off, telling him to instead fetch the cake from the cupboard. As he does, she proceeds to tell him a long story on the origins of New Year’s traditions. She certainly does read a lot, her half hour long talk about various practices around the world is a testament to that. Dessert is had, which Hanji talks through. The woman can talk. And talk. And talk. Not that Eren minds much, he enjoys their friendship and if that means sometimes sitting through her lectures, so be it. 

Still, he is a little ashamedly grateful when they retire the sitting room and Hanji ends with, “...Not that any of that matters tonight because the Chinese New Year is later in January.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Eren agrees - though his heart isn’t in it and his voice comes out flat and doleful. He isn’t lying when he says he enjoys her company but sometimes even just an hour with her can be absolutely exhausting. Levi must have the patience of a saint to live with her. Or he could just be really good at tuning her out.

He sinks heavily on the couch and kicks his feet up onto the coffee table - something he can only do because Levi isn’t there. His left foot knocks against a small black journal. Eren has spent plenty of time perusing their bookshelves (Hanji has a unique taste that fills their shelves with a curious blend of science novels, 14th-century poetry, and history), though he can’t say he’s seen this little leather-bound volume. Clearly Hanji notices his interest because she answers the question before it’s asked. “Oh, this is Levi’s new songbook. He goes through them so quickly so I got him a whole bunch for his birthday.”

“Yeah, that’s not the one I saw him writing in last time I was around while he worked. He doesn’t usually just leave it out,” Eren says. The few times he has seen such books have either been when Levi is writing or sitting on top of the piano.

“He was working earlier but I think he was getting frustrated with the lyrics so he decided to clean instead.” The woman scoops it up and thumbs through. 

Eren blinks when he catches her eyes moving across a verse. “Should we be reading it? I know these are all works in progress.”

She simply waves her hand. “I’m his wife. Where do you think he gets his feedback from?” says Hanji lightly. She flips a couple pages. “I have to say, he gets more and more poetic as time goes on. Who woulda thunk? I think it started about the time he met you.”

Eren’s ears heat up at record pace at that - not that Hanji mentions it. She hands him the book to look through. Reluctant at first, he starts at the back with the most recent pieces Levi has written. He stops for a second then reads a line carefully. “He doesn’t…”

“Nope, indeed not,” Hanji hums. How well she seems to be able to read Eren’s mind is a little scary.

Eren doesn’t focus on her telepathy though, instead flipping through to see if every song has the same detail he’s noticed, which they all do. While every one used at one of Levi’s shows were very clearly led to believe he was singing about a woman - most people assuming Hanji to be his muse - all these songs written in Levi’s neat script use masculine pronouns. One of his more recently published, a piece called  _ I Begged Her _ , has a loose piece of folded paper inserted next to it. Opening it, Eren found all the pronouns changed to feminine, a few of the lines also changed to rhyme with the new pronouns.

The very last one is half complete, presumably the song the singer had been working on before abandoning it in frustration. While the lyrics barely take up a quarter of the page, there is already a title written in the upper margin,  _ And Then You Kissed Me .  _ Reading the song causes Eren’s heart to flutter just like it had out on the balcony, gives him some weightless feeling in his abdomen. Part of him says that it’s conceded to think this is written about him while the other half calls him an oblivious idiot if he thinks it’s anything else. Eren quickly closes the journal as if that will end his inner debate and sets it back on the coffee table. It does nothing to stop his mental conflict.

And that knowing look Hanji has - Eren is really starting to find it unsettling. Does he show that much emotion on his face? “You know,” she says without that perceptive expression leaving. “When we first met and I realised it, I held Levi’s sexuality over his head too, like he’s done with you. At first it was the only way I could managed to talk him into doing things with me.”

It takes a moment for the information to really process. “Wait… Really?”

“You know how anti-social our resident star is. Even if he did extend the olive branch first, getting him to go out on the town with me was quite the difficulty. Levi will admit himself that he is a bit inept when it comes to other people.” Their dialogue slowly fades into Hanji monologuing to herself as she settles back in her seat. “It does make me wonder. Could he have been using my tactic because he simply knew of no other excuse - I suppose I should say way - to be around you? That would mean from the start Levi knew he wanted to be your friend. He does make quick judgments when the time calls for it. It does suggest a few other things I’ve been wondering-”

“Hanji,” Eren finally cuts in when he can no longer bear it. Her mutterings are making his own mind go a mile a minute. He isn’t like her or Armin, he can’t just let his mind go and figure these things out. Losing the reins never goes anywhere good and just makes his head hurt. “Don’t you think you’re reading into something that’s not there?” 

He tries to laugh it off. But it’s planted a seed. Their first few meetings were entirely caused by Levi. Eren didn’t even know when he’d see the singer next at the start. Their relationship was dictated entirely by Levi’s whims. So would that mean that even then, without knowing a thing about him, Levi wanted to be around Eren?  _ If  _ \- on the very big off-chance -  _ if  _ Eren’s newfound feelings were reciprocated… How long had Levi been feeling this way? 

How much of an oblivious moron is Eren really?

Hand on his head as it starts to pound, Eren glances at Hanji. She’s got this smirk dancing on her lips. She seems entirely aware of every last word Eren is deliberating upon and is amused by it. Like watching a puppy happily devour meat for the first time or a toddler realising that the switch is what controls the light. She knew it from the start and is delighted to watch the learning happen. Eren isn’t sure if he wants to yell or laugh along.

Diverting the attention from himself seems the best option. “How did that go?”

“Oh,” she jerks, seemingly lost in her own thoughts. “He figured out in no time, of course. It wasn’t exactly a subtle gambit on my part. He eventually promised to be with me more so long as I promised to shower more often, especially after pulling all-nighters.”

Eren may not have known it but he was wearing a smile of his own, one that showed all his fondness for the ever quirky singer. “He isn’t wrong when he says he’s not the best at social interaction. I can just imagine what the proposal was like.”

“A story for another time,” Hanji says as she waves her hand and puts out the candle on the coffee table. Her eyes are on the black and white clock across the room, her lips form around silent words, and then a bang and colourful bursts of white, green, and red illuminate the room through the floor to ceiling windows of the penthouse. More fireworks follow, erupting in brilliant hues that light the room for the smallest of moments before sending it into darkness with only the stars acting as illumination in the moonless night until just a few seconds later another goes off in shades that absolutely captivate.

“Happy New Year, Eren,” Hanji says in this soft tone as they watch the display together.

When the display finishes with a star-shaped white firework and darkness descends on the room for a final time. Hanji rises to her feet. “Well!” she yawns widely, breaking the awed silence. “It’s past midnight and I seem to be quite exhausted! I’ll be heading to bed since I’m sure you’ll wait up for Levi.” She kisses Eren’s cheek and offers him a smile. “Now our year has started with a kiss, right? Good luck for us both. Good night, Eren.”

“Night, Hanji.”

He listens to her pad down the hall, the quiet metallic sound of the knob as she turns it, and then the lock mechanisms clicking into place and a few moments after the walls creak as water rushes through the pipes to fill the tub. Eren sags back against the couch, his blank stare directed at the empty night sky. Maybe he should think about heading to bed too. It doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea, he’s tired after all.

No, he’ll wait up until Levi comes home. Even if he were to lay in bed, he wouldn’t sleep until the singer was next to him.

Eren glances at the lyric book still sitting on the coffee table and wonders yet again how oblivious he can be. 

Is he oblivious or self-centered? He doesn’t know which to bet on, fears taking a chance on either should he choose the wrong course. Hope calls him unobservant; self-loathing snaps that he needs to check his ego. 

Armin has always called Eren determined, never one to sit back when he could move forward. They call him a blockhead, blind, acting without considering the consequences. Maybe there’s truth to it, maybe not. Eren can’t say. All he knows is that for once, he doesn’t know what to do. There isn’t some clear cut path for him. For the first time in his life, he feels paralyzed by indecision.

When did everything get so complicated? It feels like things used to be more simple. Like his romance with Jean, that was simple. Eren worked in a little coffee shop back then, before his job at the cabaret. Before life got complicated. It was so easy - Jean came in every day before work, he interned at a bank, at the same time every day; Eren could set his watch to it. After a few weeks of this, Eren started having his drink prepared for him the second Jean walked through the doors. It was the day Jean came in two hours late when they finally really talked, more than just the choreographed pleasantries. Eren still remembers how red Jean had turned when he mumbled out, “I don’t have work today… I just came to see you.” He found the blush more than a little cute and along with an espresso, Eren slipped his number to Jean. Eren bought a telephone at his mother’s insistence (and with her money) when he moved to the city. It wasn’t until he met Jean that he really started using it.

Eren wouldn’t pretend their relationship was sugar, spice, and everything nice. He and Jean had their differences and they butt heads more often than not - over where the coffee maker should go, when it was acceptable to put up Christmas decorations, even the pronunciation of certain words. If there was any room for difference of opinion then he and Jean had it. Armin once commented on their ability to fight over the smallest insignificant things and called it almost amazing. In some ways they were two peas in a pod; in others, water and oil.

Life wasn’t always easy, especially once Jean practically moved in with Eren, but at least then Eren had always been sure in his decisions. Hotblooded without much impulse control… But confident in himself.

Eren tries to sigh out his mounting frustration - not that it actually does much and his insides still feel like a bunch of old jewelry that had been thrown aside and has now formed its own Gordian knot. He paces in an attempt to walk out his anxieties, wandering around the dark penthouse. Eren considers himself a morning person but even he had to acknowledge how serene the fall of darkness made everything. Nothing is the matter, no hectic life (though he can hear the parties still raging outside, they don’t penetrate the penthouse), just a fragile stillness. Whether it helps his racing thoughts or aggravates them, he hasn't decided.

His uncontrolled feet lead him to the piano room. As he sits he can hear the bench creak; not wanting to break the spell of night, he holds himself up just slightly. His clumsy fingers fumble through a quiet C scale. His fingering is probably incorrect and there’s no grace to it at all but he manages to go up and down again. Ages ago Levi taught him about the circle of fifths; Eren moves his thumb to the key his pinky had been on and tries another scale. He has to guess which key would be sharp but eventually he finds it by ear and he flounders his way through another scale. While he tries to work through cadence patterns, Eren hears the lock click and the door open.

He hurries to his feet and stands in the doorway of the room; he can just make out the dark outline of Levi as he shrugs off his jacket, hanging it along with his hat. The singer goes to the kitchen and flicks on the dim light over the sink before he fills a kettle. “You didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“You said you weren’t going to be out long.” There always seems to be some softness in their interactions, especially late at night. This atmosphere never fails to calm the raging storm of volatile emotions that is his mind. Levi is such a rough man, his edges coarse as shards of glass. Eren doesn’t worry about getting cut. Maybe at one point he did, but now he runs his hand along those edges with no fear of drawing blood. 

After his water has boiled and been strained through tea leaves, Levi pads to the sitting room. First, he toes off his leather dress shoes, making sure they are together neatly when he slides them under the sofa, then curls his legs close. He makes himself so small. Eren is immediately reminded of a cat he once used to own; the already little creature always became so much smaller in its attempt to get comfortable. A smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. In more ways than that, Levi is very much like that cat he once had.

He waits until the teacup is half emptied. Levi needs time to unwind after being around so many people. Eren knows this and won’t annoy him further. He doesn’t speak until he thinks Levi has eased up enough for it. “How was the party?”

“Boring,” the singer replies.

Likely it was rowdy, full of too much alcohol, and far too many talkative people. Surely the rest of the attendants found it great fun. Eren smiles to himself.

Levi drains the last of his tea and takes the cup to the kitchen. He returns with a bottle of Glenlivet and two crystal tumblers. He sets them on the coffee table and cracks open the bottle. He pauses as he fills the glasses but then slides Eren a tumbler and retakes his seat. “I assume Hanji’s in bed?”

“Went not too long after midnight,” Eren confirms.

Levi nods to himself. They drink mostly in silence, watching light’s go out as the fall of night heavies over the city. Eren himself is more of a morning bird, most of his jobs have required it of him, however there is an ethereal beauty in nightfall that he wishes he could see more of. It is while he considers this that Levi asks, “You two stay in all evening?”

He nods as he watches the blinking lights of an airplane glide through the black sky. “We did.”

“Gave you plenty of time to look through this then, right?” the singer continues, holding up the little black journal. 

Eren’s eyes widen to the size of hockey pucks. He feels as if he’s just been called out for being the one to stick all his chewed gum under the desk and he can’t say he even has a clue how to deal with it. “I-I- Well, Hanji saw it- She was already- I can explain,” he finally settles on, though in a room filled with the disapproving eyes of all his fellow students and unforgiving teacher, is there really anything he could say that would fully make up for all the times they had to brush up against and shiver in disgust at his chewed gum?

“Eren,” Levi cuts in. He downs the rest of his drink before he continues, “It’s… Alright. I told Hanji a long time ago she was more than welcome to look through this. ...The same goes for you.” Levi struggles with the words as he speaks; they sound like a splinter in his throat - something he desperately wants to get out but anxious about the pain it would cause yet knowing the longer he waits, the worse it will be. “I… Don’t mind… If you read it.”

The sheet of darkness from the nearly moonless night covers Eren’s cheeks as they heat up, something which he is grateful for. “Thanks… I don’t think I will though; I really prefer to hear you perform them.”

He catches the glint of light off Levi’s eyes as the singer glances towards him then back at the book on the table. Eren isn’t the best with people or picking up on signals, nevertheless even  _ he  _ can feel the odd tension that fills the air - not that he can put a name on it. Feeling the sudden need for it, Eren downs the rest of his glass as well. He didn’t  _ think  _ he said anything wrong but now he certainly feels like he did.

With a thoughtful gaze, Levi glances out the windows. Something in his eyes seems calculating, considering. Planning. And completely oblivious to Eren sweating in his seat.

Finally, Levi rises to his feet; his movements are elegant, smooth, connected - a flower borne across a glassy lake without a care for the tumultuous world around it - as he sets aside both their glasses and corks the bottle of Glenlivet. He leaves the tumblers to be washed later - a complete contradiction to his usual behaviour. “It’s late, we ought to head to bed.”

Even against the wood, their footsteps are quiet as they both make their way to the bedroom. Despite the curious pressure in the air, their night routine is the same: Eren brushes his teeth and rinses his face in the grey marble sink - the expansive counter covered in Levi’s collection of shaving creams, colognes, pomades, and razor, all neatly arranged by item and size - while Levi steps into the shower across the room. He has two types of showers that Eren has come to recognise: the first is his quick three-minute rinse; unless he was out at a show then his showers take time - rinsing the gel out of his hair, unwinding beneath the hot water. Tonight is clearly one of the second so Eren dresses in his flannel pajamas and heads to bed on his own.

The cold sheets cause him to shiver at first but it isn’t long before Eren is curling into the warmth of them. The day feels like it’s dragged on and on yet was simultaneously over in an instant, he reflects as he lays there. The sheer amount of things that have happened just throughout the evening makes it seem as if it should be longer yet each event was gone in a breath. How curious time can be - creep along for some things then speed by for others; for a thing that has consistent measurements, the feel is entirely inconsistent. Why is it the dull moments last forever yet the pleasurable ones are over before one can comment on them? Like their kiss, that was so short when the rest of the party was just going on for ages. ...Would all their kisses seem so rushed? Would he... get another at all?

Gradually, Eren’s thoughts slow down as his eyes shut, his half-asleep mind no longer in a place to philosophise. 

At the sound of padded footsteps, Eren cracks his eyes before opening them fully to watch Levi enter the room, towel around his waist though his skin is only a little damp now. Steam puffs out of the bathroom in a warm rush before the door is shut again.

“Eren?” he calls out into the darkness of the room.

Eren grunts back a response.

“Are you awake?”

“Yeah.” No. Not really. If he closes his eyes again he would be asleep in a snap. His eyes are already drifting shut. It’s late. It’s been a long day. He deserves some rest.

A weight settles on Eren’s hips and his eyes snap open. There are just enough stars and just a big enough gap between the curtains for him to make out the form of Levi, straddling him as if it was nothing, like going through the Sunday paper. 

Eren is sure as hell awake now.

Without saying a word, Levi places his hands on Eren’s chest, slim fingers exploring the clothed skin. The shirt between them is annoying - all the layers separating them are suddenly very irritating: the towel, the blanket, pajamas; it’s all irking the younger man right now as Levi just calmly smoothes the wrinkles from his shirt. The more he touches, the more Eren is aware of just how long it’s been since he was last touched.

Levi’s fingertips brush against the hem of his shirt and across the small sliver of skin revealed there. “Say the word,” he whispers as he just barely inches his hands beneath Eren’s top. “And I’ll stop.”

As if Eren would. But the consideration warms Eren’s heart.

When there is no reply, Levi pulls his shirt up; his fingers drag across Eren’s chest as he does so and Eren’s skin breaks out in goosebumps. He sits up to allow the article of clothing off over his head then Levi drops it beside the bed.

Their mouths meet in a kiss that is sugar sweet as their lips move together. Every little touch has Eren's nerves alight. And he all but melts when Levi parts his lips and flicks his tongue against the seam of Eren's lips. His part, and Levi's tongue slides against the other's.

It is far from timid; however, the singer keeps every touch slow, gentle. Part of Eren demands he speed this up, give in to the growing desire in his belly. He knows better than to listen. There's no need to hurry. This isn't a one night stand, neither of them will be sneaking off in the morning to avoid an awkward confrontation. This is one of their many expressions of affection, not the first nor the last. Eren furrows his brow slightly. No, he's right. Even before their moonlit kiss, Levi has been showing little acts of tenderness. He keeps them covered with a hard exterior yet his actions have betrayed him. Eren may have only now realised his own feelings, how long has Levi known of his? He may be brusque but now that he thinks of it, Eren can't deny that Levi has attended to him more than nearly anyone else, in the gruff manner of his that toes the line of rude. He had been a fool to think Levi was interested in him only for entertainment. This isn’t going anywhere -  _ Levi  _ isn’t going anywhere - so he’ll keep it slow, revel in the affection he’s been blind to.

He’ll be patient - because there is absolutely no need to rush.

Levi’s mouth parts from Eren’s and then the singer is dropping kisses down his neck. Already Eren can feel his heart pounding, hear it in his ears, and he’s sure Levi can feel it when the singer suckles on his pulse point. Agonizingly slow, Levi presses kisses lower; he flicks his tongue against Eren’s sternum before parting his lips to suck a hickey in the center of his chest. Eren moans at the sensation that grows more intense the longer Levi suckles at his skin before releasing with a little pop that shouldn’t be nearly as erotic as it is.

He watches Levi sit back on his haunches between Eren’s legs. Eren helps the singer remove his pajama bottoms and boxers. Levi trails his fingers down Eren's thighs and hooks a hand under Eren’s calf and lifts his leg. Starting at his ankle, Levi presses kisses up his leg; Eren’s skin tingles at every point Levi touches his lips on: up his shin, sucking ever so lightly at the sensitive area behind his knee, along his inner thigh before he finishes with a quick, sharp bite to his hip bone that causes Eren to gasp. 

The actions are repeated on his other leg; by time Levi scrapes his teeth against his hip, Eren barely feels as if he could stand. Already he’s panting hard and he can feel the hot flush across his cheeks and reddening his ears. Kisses are spread across his belly and Eren’s fingers twitch, not sure whether to grab onto the sheets or lace them through Levi’s dark hair. His nerves are alight, anticipating Levi’s next touch.

He couldn’t even begin to prepare himself for Levi to take half his cock in his mouth in one go.

Exhaling sharply before sucking the breath back in through his teeth, Eren tosses his head back. Warm and wet and tight and  _ so good _ around his arousal; Levi laves his length with sweet, little kitten licks along the crisscross of veins, just beneath the ridge of the rosy head, and across his steadily weeping slit. Eren’s fingers curl and flex, really at a loss for where to put them now; Levi pulls back for just a moment, the  _ pop _ echoing around the dark room, then takes the whole shaft down his throat. Eren’s hands both fly to Levi’s hair, making a mess of dark locks. The head of his cock hits the back of the singer’s throat and Eren can’t keep down a full-blown moan.  _ God, so good!  _

He doesn’t realise those words had tumbled past his lips until he sees the glint of a smirk in Levi’s eyes. “S-sorry,” he chokes out. “Hanji and all….”

Levi pulls off again and shakes his head, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Something about clean freak Levi Ackermann doing something so  _ dirty  _ makes Eren’s whole body heat up and his groin ache. How had he not seen how heels over head he was before now?

“She won’t mind,” says Levi as he shifts, removing his towel from his waist and dropping it on the floor before sitting on Eren’s hips. Eren swallows hard when the singer moves - so little friction on his wet cock but not nearly enough - and reaches in the bedside table drawer. He rummages around blindly for a moment before producing a bottle of lube and a foil wrapped condom. He clicks open the lube and Eren pauses. 

“Um…” Suddenly he has the logistics of sex to think about. Admittedly between him and Jean it could be a bit difficult. Neither were big on bottoming, yet Eren did it now and then for his boyfriend. He isn’t sure how Levi wants him. And it had been so long, it would take a good bit of prep to get him ready for anything bigger than fingers.

Levi dribbles the liquid over a couple of fingers and just as Eren is about to shift to lay on his stomach - give him ease of access - Levi’s hand circles behind himself and he lets out a breathy groan as he, presumably, presses a digit inside himself. 

Levi plants one hand on Eren’s chest while the other twists deeper inside himself. Eren is torn, watching all the pleasure pass over Levi’s face - his eyebrows furrowing together, just barely biting at his lip - or seeing Levi’s long, delicate fingers work his hole open, he isn’t sure which sight he’d rather see more. Just listening to the wet noises of the lube makes it hard for him to lie still; when a quiet moan passes between the singer’s thin lips, Eren matches it with one of his own.

Hips rocking with every thrust of his fingers, Levi looks through his lashes at the man beneath him. Eren swallows hard; that gaze lights him up from the inside out. He’s so damn hungry for it yet Levi takes his sweet ass time opening himself up. 

Finally he looks down at Eren. “Want me to keep going?”

_ “Yes,” _ Eren rasps out.

Eren fumbles at first with the condom, shaking hands just barely managing to roll it on his arousal before Levi brushes them away. Nimble fingers coated in slippery lube wrap around the base of Eren’s cock, giving the thick member a few pumps, then Levi holds it still as he slowly lowers himself. The singer takes his time, going inch by inch and relishing every moment of it. Eren knows he is. Already his chest is heaving with laboured breaths. He wants desperately to thrust into that tight, wet heat, the primal need getting stronger the further Levi sits on his arousal. 

Finally, their hips meet when Levi settles himself fully. They stay there, the air around them still, the faintest bit of starlight cutting a stripe of light in the darkness. Eren props himself up on his elbows and Levi meets him halfway, mouths locking in slow kisses. As willing as he is, Eren finds that if this is all Levi wants, he’d be alright with it. He isn’t so worried about his own climax or even his own pleasure tonight. An urge deeply seated within him just tells him to take care of Levi. If the night were to end here with their deep tongue-filled kisses, Eren would be content so long as Levi was. 

Their lips part even as Eren touches their foreheads together, heavy breathing mingling together. Maybe he should feel awkward that he’s fully inside the singer’s ass yet here they are, just staring into each other’s eyes like bad film actors. It doesn’t bother Eren one wit. More than any pleasure he craves, he longs to be close to Levi as they are now. Being near him is enough to satisfy Eren. They share another kiss, the contact broken by a moan when Levi languidly rolls his hips. Eren does his best to mirror his movements, to cause more of those lovely noises.

Levi sits up, giving himself a better angle. The ribbon of starlight falls across his chest and shoulders, illuminating his flexing muscles as he grinds his hips in slow circles. Eren splays his hands across Levi’s abdomen, feeling the movement beneath his pale skin. His fingers map out the planes of his chest, intoxicated by the contact, worshipping the lithe frame on top of him with the gentlest of touches. Eren flicks his thumb across a dusty pink nipple, Levi breathing out a moan in response. Eren repeats the motion with both hands and this time, along with a louder noise, Levi clenches around his member. 

“You’re beautiful,” Eren breathes into the darkness; waves of pleasure cause his voice to come out shaky and gruff, deeper than usual. Levi quickens his pace and both moan out. Watching that gorgeous body, giving him ecstasy that has Levi making the most irresistible noises and expressions, the desire for more and more pulsing through him, Eren could live in this moment forever and be more than happy. 

And then Levi halts suddenly, a high mewl escapes him as his whole body shudders. He breathes heavily for a moment before he tries to roll his hips again and another shiver shoots up his spine and he chokes down a whimper. At first, Eren frowns. Then, with a shallow thrust that has Levi moaning loud as he tosses his head back, fingertips pressing into Eren’s chest, it clicks into place. He gyrates his hips and Levi bites down hard on his lower lip as he chokes out a noise. Eren sits up, wrapping his arms around Levi’s thin, shaking frame as he keeps up the slow thrusts. 

“Eren!” Levi sobs. He presses his face into the crook of Eren’s neck, gasping as every movement has Eren’s cock dragging across his prostate.

Eren holds him tightly against his chest. He kisses the top of his head, breathes in the scent of his shampoo - white tea and sage - as Levi’s moans grow louder with every movement. “So beautiful,” repeats Eren. “Does it feel good? I want to make you feel so good, Levi.” He’s babbling now, coherent thought lost to pleasure. He’s on the edge, tension building within him as his nerves get more sensitive. Not that it matters to him if Levi isn’t enjoying it too. Though his mantra of “Eren!” between moans and expletives, his fingers digging at Eren’s back as his body shakes, should be a good enough signal.

Then Levi cries out against his shoulder, his entrance spasming as he spills between them; wordless moans echo around the room as he shudders from his climax, pressing close as he can to Eren. 

Eren desperately tries to keep his eyes open, keep his gaze on Levi, memorise the pleasure clearly written on his face; yet he can’t bear it anymore when the coil snaps and he releases, squeezing his eyes shut tightly as ecstasy rocks his body.

When he finally opens them, Eren isn’t quite sure how long it’s been, mind fuzzy as if he were intoxicated. He glances down at Levi, who is still leaning heavily against him as he pants. Must not have been that long. Eren presses another slow kiss to his dark hair. “I’m going to pull out now, alright?” he murmurs, a raspy edge to his voice. 

Once Levi nods, he slowly untangles their bodies and the used condom is tossed indiscriminately towards the bin, as Levi doesn’t allow Eren to get up. He instead intertwines their legs and pulls the blankets over them, kisses pressed over Eren’s collarbone as he does so.

Eren doesn’t protest. Already exhaustion that was previously ignored is once again filling him, more exacting than before. Not that Eren minds. While he wasn’t exactly sure how long he and Levi spent procrastinating sleep, he is certain it was a worthwhile delay.

His hand ghosts along Levi’s slicked bare back as he stares at the orange light slowly filling the room. It casts shadows over Levi’s pale complexion as he shifts to rest more comfortably against Eren with a low, content hum in his chest. This, Eren decides, is perfection. When that word is spoken this is what they mean - this moment of just the two of them lying together, sweaty and sticky and all around disgusting but too content where they are to bother cleaning up; this, Levi laying on his chest and the sheets tangled around them. This stillness, the world outside too asleep to bother them as Levi listens to the thrumming of Eren’s heartbeat and Eren strokes shaking fingers through the singer’s dark hair. This, their hearts and souls and very beings one in an intimacy meant only for them, never to be shared with another living soul.

This is bliss.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr! grumpyicekitten.tumblr.com


End file.
